


Why Would We Be Friends?

by Mountainside_possum



Series: Under Pressure [1]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alexsandr Kallus Has Issues, Broken Bones, Canon Divergence, Canon Gay Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotionally Repressed, Fluff and Angst, Force Sensitivity (Star Wars), Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, More warnings on future chapters, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mountainside_possum/pseuds/Mountainside_possum
Summary: Alexsandr Kallus has been abandoned by his beloved empire on a distant, snowy moon. Will the rebel crew of the Ghost take pity on him, or will the secrets of The Empire die with him?There are certain things not even the Empire knows about their once loyal agent...Force Sensitive Kallus gets himself in trouble, and runs from who he is for half of this fic.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Series: Under Pressure [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111706
Comments: 101
Kudos: 137





	1. Left To Freeze

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys, sorry for taking this down. I wanted to take it back into my drafts since I had a better feeling for the story now. There is no major plot change, but I will slow down my re-upload of the chapters. Small changes will be added, so if you liked the story before then I think you will like it even more now. Thank you for all your support, kudos, and comments. Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May the Force Be With You.

Agent Kallus; feared and respected. Someone who had climbed to the top of his class at the Imperial academy, dragged himself out of the oppressive poverty that hung in the air of Coruscant’s sewer levels. An Imperial, strong and proud, at surface level. Any emotion had to be pushed down, conquered mentally into an iron box. All that mattered was his work, his loyalty. After all, they had kept him alive, and provided him more purpose than he ever had before. 

Now, the Agent found himself watching through the snow clouded sky as a rebel ship, _The Ghost_ glided into the atmosphere. The stinging, burning cold air surrounded him like clouds laced with shattered glass, but there was no way he regretted watching them leave. His mind was already muddled with the memory of the past twenty-four hours. 

A rebel, his responsibility to capture or kill, had saved his life. Not only saved him, no, weakened him in a way he felt no defenses for. The Lasat called Zeb. Yes, he knew of Garazeb Orrelios. He’d read the files, he’d searched his mind for any memory of the Honor Guard during the assault on Lasan. Despite his efforts, he could find no memory of a previous meeting. Or perhaps that was the cold, and pain of his shattered leg, finally wearing him down. “...I need to move.” 

Clutching onto the lasat’s gift, a glowing amber meteorite which seemed to produce a fair share of heat, Kallus attempted to trudge forward with the transponder in tow. _The Empire is looking for me._ He told himself as the cold violent wind pushed back against his pitiful attempts to drag himself forward. He made it a few more meters before his pitifully attended to injury caught up to him, his leg giving out into the snow and bringing his body down with it. 

A desperate sob left his lips, despite being so sure of his associations with the Empire before, the moments trudging on made him less and less so. Pain filled his eyes when he opened them. There was no real reason to keep them open anyway, the world was completely white with no change. Wanting the pain to end, Kallus shut his eyes and muttered. “You...are looking for me, right?” His words came like a child missing their parent, and the world went black. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Karabast, It’s cold out there, thanks for the quick pick up, Hera.” Zeb shook the snow off his fur, trying to regain feeling in his fingers. Distantly he wondered how soon the Empire would be here to rescue their precious agent. 

“Hey! We all helped.” The Lasat glanced at the boy, seated in the common room with his feet up on the game table. Ezra was playfully pouting, as he always when someone didn’t include him in their statement of gratefulness. 

“ _Ezra_ ” Kanan’s mature, somewhat fatherly voice spoke out as he moved to scold Ezra. “We’re all glad to have you back, Zeb.” 

Usually, Zeb would have threatened the boy, however he was distracted. He wordlessly moved up to the cockpit, speaking up with caution. “Uh, Hera?” 

“Yeah, what is it? We’re getting off this frozen rock as soon as I can get the hyperdrive up, but did you want to ask me something?” She looked up at him for a moment before slipping back under the dashboard to adjust something. 

“Have...Uh, Karabast..” _Why am I asking this?_ The thought stuck in his mind, he felt ashamed to be asking what seemed like such an odd question. “Was there any Imperial activity, or anything, while we--I was down on that rock?” 

“No, actually, that’s the only good thing to report right now. The Imperials took off before you had set up the transponder. No idea why, but I assume they went somewhere to blockade.” She sighed, guessing he was nervous they’d been tracked. Standing up, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think they’re coming back, Zeb, it’s ok. Let’s just get out of here and back to the fleet.” 

“No.” Zeb said it panicked, not aware that his emotions were this intense. “Hera, listen, we’ve’gotta go back.” 

“Go back?” She asked, worry and confusion lacing her words. 

“Yeah, I’ve gotta get something…” Subconsciously he corrected, _someone._ If the Imperial fleet had truly left Kallus behind, it was murder to abandon him on that ice cube. Though, Zeb’s pride kept him from telling the whole truth. 

“You...left something? Zeb, I’m sure whatever it was can be replac-” She was immediately interrupted by Zeb raising his voice, something he rarely did towards any of the crew in a serious manner. 

“No! It can’t!” He surprised himself, even, but it got her attention along with the other crew. “Hera, we need to go, please.” 

“Ok...It better be important.” She hesitantly sat into the pilots seat, and turned _The Ghost_ , and descended back into the icy clouds. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kallus’s mind had been perfectly still, almost thoughtless, when he felt himself began to float. At first he wondered if he was dying, it would certainly be a relief compared to the cold, sharp, pain he was feeling. He kept his eyes still, assuming that in a moment he’d actually have the answer to his long-asked question; _what happens when I die?_

Instead, he felt himself shift against a warm and massive creature. If he had the strength, he would have fought against whoever was picking him up. Distantly, he heard two voices speak. One was warm, familiar, his savior from before whose name seemed to elude him, and the mature yet reckless Jedi. _Ah, so they have come to kill me?_

“You came back for _him,_ Zeb?” The Jedi asked in a far too accusatory tone, Kanan did not murder for the sake of it, but Agent Kallus had caused them more than an fair share of heart-ache. 

_Ah, yes, the jedi is here. The Lasat must have told him I was here and weakened. But, why not just leave me behind?_ Kallus’s paranoia began to pick up, but formal thoughts gave him an intense pulsing headache which discouraged his speculation. 

“Kanan, ya’can get on me for this later, but he’s frozen stiff. He needs us _.”_ Zeb spat back. _He needs me._ For some reason he couldn’t quite explain he needed to make sure Kallus was alive. Was it to continue their fight fairly? Possibly. Was it for a deeper emotion he couldn’t quite define? That was possible too, but he didn’t focus on that now. Instead he focused on keeping the blonde tight to his chest and turning back to _The Ghost._

Awareness slipped in and out of Kallus’s control as they began to move. He could tell now that he was being carried, and to whom these plush arms belonged, but he did not have the ability to understand why. He couldn’t even begin to open his eyes fully, turning his face into Zeb’s chest with a soft whine in hopes it would dull the pain. 

“Well, at least we know he’s alive.” Kanan said, not sounding pleased at the fact that he had to be within five feet of an ISB member whose death count he could only assume. To him, this was a war criminal. “Hopefully we can get something useful out of him.” 

“Yeah…” Zeb added in softly. Watching how the blonde reacted to his presence was like watching a kit; to him humans were delicate creatures much like kits anyway so the comparison was not off. Reaching the loading dock, Zeb saw how twisted the Agent’s already mangled leg appeared. “Ask Sabine to get a medkit, would’cha Kanan?” 

Kallus felt himself being brought into a room with abundant warmth, on something that felt like a bed. For the first time since he was a child, he felt truly safe. Perhaps it was his injury which allowed him to feel this way, or the fact he was not fully aware of his situation, but Kallus fell asleep smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	2. Dreams and His Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr remembers moments from the past, and Zeb learns more about the distant agent.

_Kallus had this dream many times before, the day he left for the Imperial Academy. It was the last time he’d seen either of his parents, or his siblings. He looked back at their dwelling. Both of his parent’s working full time barely afforded what they needed to survive, but it was home. The sewer level offered little to no opportunity, and every member of his family knew this. In front of him stood two Imperial officers, one with an outstretched hand. He walked towards them, giving one glance back at his parents, who were holding each other in a tight embrace. Turning on his heels, he raced back into a tight embrace with his mother. After a few moments, they pushed him away. On that day it had seemed like a shove. He would never see them again, but the dream remained vivid._

Eyes fluttering opening, Kallus awoke to a view he couldn’t quite understand at first. It seemed like metal bars supporting some sort of mattress above him. His head still felt as though he were spinning but after a moment he was aware of the fact he was laying down. His skin felt numb, but the pain had dulled into a hum in the background of his thoughts. Sat at the end of his bed was a blurry purple figure. 

“You’re awake.” Zeb turned, observing how pitiful this once formidable warrior had become. 

Kallus attempted to sit up, noticing one hand tied rather tightly to the bunk rails. “Yes, it would seem so.” Kallus had to force his way back into his cold Imperial personality, his mask. “Did the opportunity to take me prisoner become too tempting for you, Lasat?” 

“Shut it.” Zeb shot him a glare, missing the man who’d been so willing to be helped on the snow field. “We got you off that ice rock because the kriffing Empire was gone, and even you don’t deserve to freeze.” Shifting uncomfortably, Zeb’s eyes flickered down the human’s leg. 

“Ah. I suppose you want thanks?” Kallus was still trying to sit up, wincing in pain as he tried to drag his leg up. _Did they cripple me further, what good to them am I like this? “_ I suppose you couldn’t help but take advantage of my... _unfortunate_ state.” 

Zeb didn’t answer his question, rather he pushed against his shoulders to attempt to keep him laying down. “Do you know how to relax?” Zeb shot him an accusatory, sarcastic, yet partly angered glare which shut Kallus up. 

Lifting up the sheets, Zeb looked over the man’s leg which was now covered in bacta patches and a splint. When he reached out, Kallus flinched. “What? Scared I’m gonna break it?” 

“No.” Kallus answered dryly, he didn’t want to admit weakness. “I am not afraid of you.” 

“Really? Huh, could’ve fooled me.” Zeb smirked as he answered, looking over the patches to ensure they were still on. 

The answer flushed Kallus’s cheeks, which he attempted to hide by scratching his beard momentarily. After a few seconds of extended silence, he broke the question truly plaguing him. “Why did you...Why come back?” 

Zeb took a breath, thinking about how much he wanted to tell his enemy. _Could I really consider him an enemy still? Come on, Zeb, you know there’s more. Karabast._ “I told you, we’d treat you fairly.” 

“Yes, I remember. That, however, doesn't explain why you came back, Garazeb.” Kallus took great care to maintain eye contact, after all it was a step towards intimidation. Despite his injured state he could not afford to appear bested. 

_Oh force._ When Kallus said his name like that, Zeb could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat. He was grateful he had fur to cover his cheeks, or they’d be obviously flustered. “I...Listen, it’s nothing ok? Don’t think into it, I know ya’agents are trained to get information but that’s just me being nice. Nothin’ more. Want me to be mean?” 

“Mm. Not particularly.” _Garazeb_ _is so flustered by the simplest questioning on why he does things. Perhaps he has not thought them through himself?_ Kallus wondered. 

“Well, you better get rest. I’m sure they’ll be questionin’ once we reach the fleet, so enjoy the quiet.” Zeb turned, quietly moving out of the room. Letting the door close behind him, a thought crossed his mind; _Why did I go back for him?_

——————————————————————————————————————————----------------------------------------------------

_Sleep had wrapped it’s darkened tentacles around Kallus’s mind, letting in the thoughts he always sought to hold back. He was on a battlefield, one of what seemed like hundreds he’d fought on before. This time, he was weaponless and running. He nearly tripped over the bodies of three fallen stormtroopers, not stopping to access their condition as he went. Just out of reach he could see an imperial shuttle. He was so close. So close, yet too far, and the shuttle lifted without him._

Since his abandonment, Kallus’s nightmares had been plagued with imagery of the Empire leaving him behind. It always left him scrambling for breath, and shaking as he awoke. Like many nights he had seemingly alerted his bunk mate. 

“Still getting nightmares?” Zeb’s voice contained gruff, deep undertones that showed he’d been awake for less than a minute at best. 

Kallus didn’t answer, instead he wrapped the blanket provided around himself and tried to hide the tears growing in his eyes as they threatened to slide down his cheeks. 

“I get’em too.” Zeb sat up, sliding himself out of the top bunk and moving to sit down on the bed of their technically-prisoner-techniqucally-patient who had to stay on _The Ghost_ till he was healed and able to be questioned. 

“Leave me.” Kallus attempted to sound threatening, but the cracks in his voice made it clear that he was near tears. 

“Eh, not happening.” Zeb patted the man’s shoulder, causing him to flinch. “Karabast, you’re too jumpy.” 

“I do not have favorable experience with Lasat, as you seem to forget.” Kallus tried to answer back in a way to push Zeb away, but he seemed to fail. 

“Yeah, and I don’t have good times with you either, but I’m coping with the fact they put your kriffing self in my room.” _Well, Kallus is my responsibility._ Zeb wanted to show Kallus he would not be pushed around. “Now, if you’re gonna keep having loud nightmares, then you gotta tell me about’em.” 

Kallus scoffed, lightly lifting his head off his pillow. “No chance, Garazeb. I am not here for friendship.” 

“Who said we were friends?” Zeb had snapped back, wanting to throw Kallus off his feet, and he seemed to have done that. “I’m just wantin’ to know why I get woke up in the middle of sleepin’.” 

Kallus took in a long drawn out breath through his nose, like he was thinking it over with himself. “It is about that force-forsaken moon, is that a suitable answer?” 

“Is it the truth?” _He won’t tell me the truth, but why should he? It’s not like he owes me his life or anything, oh wait actually he does._

Kallus paused, really seeing no way out of this man pestering him. “They...My...The Empire was going to come for me, wouldn’t they have?” Kallus seemed to be less of that ISB agent and more of a person. 

“Kal, you already know the answer to that.” Zeb carefully moved so he could help the man sit up, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in the process. _Now we’re getting somewhere._

“I do not understand it. I am important to them, I...I am an ISB agent, they should be scanning the whole system for me.” Kallus leaned slightly into Zeb, but not completely. 

“They aren’t. That’s what they do; what the empire does. They threw ya’ away, Kal.” His voice softened, trying to provide some sense of comfort to the human who was beginning to tear up again. 

He buried his face in his hands, trying to not sob in front of this lasat who’d been his enemy up till forty-eight hours ago. 

“Ya’ could join us?” Zeb was so hopeful, he wanted Kallus to join. The human wasn’t made for the Empire where his talents would be wasted. _He belongs here._

“And be a rebel? No. I am not like you.” Kallus didn’t sound as determined as he wanted those words to make Zeb believe. It was training, instinctive. 

“Mm...Is that Kal talkin’, or is that Agent Kallus?” Zeb wanted to know, because this softer man was certainly not the agent he’d been hunted by. 

“Alexsandr.” His voice was soft, yet clearly emotional. 

“Huh?” Zeb questioned the name, cocking his head. 

“You asked who is speaking, my name is Alexsandr Kallus.” He lifted his head, meeting Zeb’s eyes with a look of uncertainty. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	3. Nightmares, Injury, And Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanan tries to get answers out of Agent Kallus, and Zeb learns that the Imperial's stubborn nature has limits.

Days passed easily with Kallus on The Ghost. The crew had gotten to a point of slight ease, only amplified by the fact that Kallus’s injury left him with a mild limp. Unless he got his hands on a blaster, there was no way he was going to be a threat. Hera had been the first to question their prisoner. Stepping out of Zeb’s room and letting the door slide away in front of her, she turned to Kanan. 

“He’s not willing to give up anything. Zeb got a real name out of him a few days ago but aside from that he hasn’t spoken.” She crossed her arms, looking out into the few ships the fleet had above Chopper Base with them. Commander Sato had determined it was too dangerous to let Kallus see Chopper Base, even as a prisoner, so he’d been kept inside The Ghost with limited access to the outside windows. 

“Hm...I could help push him.” Kanan was lost in thought for a moment, suggesting he could use force influence against the agent to get some information where the others could not. 

“It’s worth a shot, I’m going to the front to make sure Ezra hasn’t broken anything.” She gave him a slight joking smirk as she turned, walking into the cockpit with familiar elegance. Kanan couldn’t help but linger on her distant voice for a moment. 

Kanan punched a code into the pad next to Zeb’s door that they’d installed, an extra security measure to ensure the agent didn’t try anything stupid. Walking in, Kanan instantly sensed the uneasiness and paranoia coming off Kallus. “Afraid?” 

“Of what, You?” Kallus looked up from the holonovel he was reading, Zeb had allowed him to borrow a few of his collection while he was going to be trapped in this room all day. Awkwardly, he had stretched out his lamed leg on the bed with the other folded underneath to give the illusion he could sit normally. 

“Not sure, but you’re afraid of something.” Kanan calmly wandered his way to the edge of the bed, sitting a mere few inches from the imperial. 

“Hmph.” Kallus scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I have nothing to fear, unlike you.” Mentally, he knew that Kanan was a threat. He knew they could kill him at any moment, throw him out the airlock without a second thought. He could almost feel the cold vacuum of space drawing the air out of his lungs, freezing any warmth from his skin. 

“You don’t actually believe that.” Kanan softly waved his hand, attempting influence in Kallus’s mind. He wanted Kallus to feel fear, he wanted to make this man understand that their crew was a danger to him. There was a small part of Kanan that wanted to dig into the imperials mind, to truly make him suffer. It was a part of him he had to calm every time he saw Kallus. 

“I...I don’t…” Kallus’s hands reached up to clutch at his skull, holding it like he was in pain. After a moment, his head looked back up at the jedi. His eyes were full of rage, pain, but underlying fear. “I will not be swayed by your...your magic.” 

“No, you will tell me what I want to know.” Kanan edged closer, once again attempting to gain influence into Kallus’s mind. To those untrained in the force, this was highly successful. Jedi and Sith had trained a mental barrier, a way to protect themselves. Kanan was betting on ISB agents not being taught how to defend against this form of attack, after all it would be an added difficulty for the sith lords or inquisitors. 

The force probe into his mind felt too familiar, too dangerous. Kallus attempted to look away again, but not soon enough to avoid the feeling and influence. If his heart could beat out of his chest, then it already would have. Images, places, people; where this feeling had happened before clouded his mind. Suddenly, he wasn’t in The Ghost, no. He was in an integration room, strapped to a table, with an inquisitor walking in a wide arch in front of him. The feeling of drugs and electrical shocks made him weak, beyond fearing for his life. He screamed out, feeling a burning throb inside his skull. 

“G...Get out of my mind!” He wasn’t even aware of the fact he’d kicked till felt the throbbing in his healing leg and saw Kanan quickly shift onto his feet in order to avoid the impact. Tumbling onto the floor, Kallus tried to comprehend what had just happened. He’d seen that scene in nightmares, but never before in waking hours. He turned to look at Kanan, yelling; “What....What evil are you!” 

“You attacked me, I was trying to talk to you.” Now, that was mostly a lie, but Kanan had felt the influx of fear that came from the man’s mind. He had little understanding of the brain, but could make an educated guess that he’d managed to find something repressed in the agent. 

“Kanan!” Zeb had been waiting in the common area, along with Sabine who also rushed in. His eyes scanned over Kallus who was on the ground and seemed confused, then to Kanan who was standing up and seemed alarmed. “What happened? Yer ok?” 

“Yeah, Zeb, Sabine can I talk to you two outside for a moment?” Kanan guided the two outside of the room, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the now closed door. “I tried to persuade him to talk to me through the force, but he reacted violently.” 

“Did he hurt you?” Sabine was looking Kanan over, one hand reaching to her blaster. “I knew he was dangerous, I should’ve blasted him.” Before she could continue her anti-kallus rant. 

“No, Sabine, I’m fine. I don’t believe he knew he was attacking me. At least...He wasn’t aware of his actions.” Kanan was deep in thought, trying to ponder this set of events. 

“What’da you mean, Kanan?” Zeb was feeling a deep sense of regret, if he had brought a dangerous person on board and put Kanan at risk for selfish reasons he’d never forgive himself. 

“He tried to kick me with his injured leg.” Kanan said, “He pulled back once he felt it, and that drew him back to the moment. I’m...not sure what that means, or what happened, but I don’t think it was voluntary.” 

“We need to tell Hera, she might want to tell the commander we had an incident with the imp.” Sabine carefully made her way to the cockpit, leaving the other two crew members behind to wonder what this meant and why it had happened now. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kallus had been left alone after his flashback. With his intensely broken leg it hurt to move, it hurt to be awake. Resting his head against the cold metal floor and bringing his hand up to his mouth in order to silence himself, he began to cry. This must be the work of the Jedi, he thought. There was no way he was allowing himself to become this emotional. He could feel warmth traveling across his thigh and soaking into his pants, and realized that meant his wounds on his legs had reopened. He shuddered to think what it would feel like to move. 

While Kallus thought about the best way to go about his wounds, the metallic door slid open. A husky familiar voice filled the space, giving a slight bit of comfort to Kallus. 

“What’d’cha do?” Zeb carefully knelt down beside Kallus, scanning over his leg. “Great, lets get some bacta on your le-” His eyes focused, his face twisting in worry as he saw how deeply Kallus was sobbing. “Hey, Hey, talk to me.” 

Kallus looked at Zeb for a moment before he buried his face into his palms. “T-The Jedi…” He managed to get the word out between the sobs that shook his chest. 

“Yea, Kanan. He came to talk to ya’. What happened?” Zeb sat down, carefully moving so the blonde was up against his shoulder. He tried to maneuver his legs gently, knowing that he’d have to calm Kallus down before he could treat his leg. 

“He…” Kallus was trembling, truly vulnerable around the lasat. “He toyed with my mind…” Kallus attempted to keep his pride by speaking vaguely, especially since he couldn’t make sense of what he had seen. Why would an inquisitor be questioning him in such a manner? What had he done to deserve that? “Made me see...things I truly do _not_ believe happened.” 

“Huh.” Zeb sounded less than surprised, after all he’d seen Kanan in action. Though, no one ever seemed so upset after Kanan used the force on their minds. “And what’d ya’ see?” 

“An Inquisitor.” He tried to access what he’d seen, talking it through aloud while he went over the information. “They...He, actually, one of the brothers, was collecting information. I...I didn’t say anything, but he...slashed me, I believe?” He tilted his head, sighing. “It is simply a nightmare caused by the jedi.” 

“You sure, Kal?” Zeb felt a small amount of pity for the man, it was clear that something had happened to him but he was so blinded by his Imperial training. “It sounds pretty real.” 

“There is no reason for me to be questioned, I am not a traitor.” Kallus pulled away from Zeb, wincing at the adjustment of his leg. He tried to drag himself towards the bottom bunk, however he barely got outside of an arm's-length. 

“Ya’need help?” Zeb’s lips formed into a smirk, like before Kallus needed him. Carefully standing up, Zeb picked up the agent and tossed him across his shoulder. “I know ya’ want to act strong n’ all, but you need help.” 

“You are rebels. I do not need your help.” He yelped, and Zeb set him down on the metal flooring. “W...What are you doing?!” 

“Ya’ said you didn’t need my help, well have fun treatin’ yourself for a bit till you realize yer being an ass.” Zeb flashed him a cocky smirk, moving to the door and ignoring Kallus’s cries for him to come back. He closed the bedroom door behind him, and left the man to learn a lesson. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zeb wasn’t a cruel man, he knew when he had bested his enemy fairly, and nothing about the situation with Kallus was fair. That is the moral dilemma that drove Zeb to leave medical supplies and food just inside the door when Kallus had fallen asleep. Slight annoyance at having his room hijacked turned to mild irritation, he had hoped the Imperial would give in on the first night and admit to needing help. Every hour that man denied aid was another hour he was keeping useful information from the rebellion. It was on the fourth night, while the other crew slept, that he was dropping off supplies for the man again. 

The supplies from the previous night were untouched, which unsettled Zeb. Cautiously, he spoke into the room. “Kal?” When no reply came, he truly walked inside. “Kallus?” He found the man laid in one corner of the room, his pant leg rolled up to the knee. Terrified that he might be dead, Zeb rushed to his side. “Karabast, what’d ya’ do?” 

“Y...You were right...I can’t...treat this on my own accord.” Alexsandr’s voice was strained, weakened. No longer did he attempt to hide behind the icy Imperial personality. No, he was far too weakened to keep up that persona. 

Muttering a few curses, Zeb looked over the man’s leg. The sights that had previously healed by bacta patches were red and angry, infected with some sort of gray puss. Kallus’s whole body looked flushed pink, like he was sunburnt. “Ok, yer remembering, that’s good. Let’s get this leg cleaned off, ok?” Zeb could see that Kallus had already admitted defeat, there was no way he was just going to let him suffer extensively for no reason. 

“I’ve tried the...bacta...it will not heal…” He was trembling, attempting to look up at Zeb. This thoughts felt contained within a thick fog, it was too difficult to communicate a simple statement like that. 

“It’s ok, It’s ok, I gotcha.” Carefully, Zeb picked up the injured human in his arms bridal style. He’d seen humans carry each other like this before, so he assumed it must be a more comfortable way to hold the injured. Settling Kallus on the bottom bunk, he calmly spoke. “I’m goin’ to get some stuff to help you, ok? Hold tight.” 

Vaguely, Alexsandr could hear the door opening and closing again. He wondered if he was dying. Thinking back to his childhood, he could remember a time when he’d contracted a serious illness no one could diagnose. If he focused enough, he could imagine that his mother was still attempting to heal him. The fever ran higher and higher, the feeling eerily familiar to his current situation. Occasionally, he’d feel pangs and pings from his leg, but aside from those non-existent needle pokes he could barely recognize it still existed. 

Alexsandr realized that Zeb was back in the room when he felt a slashing across his infected wounds. Crying out in both surprise and pain, he attempted to swat away the man’s hand. “Zeb! S-Stop!” The pain sharpened his thoughts, reminded him where he was, and forced him to open his teary eyes. 

“I’m just cleaning it up, ok? I’m not tryin’ to hurt you.” Zeb showed him that he’d simply been using gauze to try and disinfect the wounds to a point the bacta could work again. The lasat’s face was focused, yet showed concern. I’d left him too long, this buckethead is too stubborn; Zeb couldn’t help but think. 

After a few more wipes across his skin, the pain dulled to a manageable hum. Panting, he delicately spoke. “W...Well, I can assume this is something you…” for a moment he was going to add ‘rebels’ but it didn’t feel right to demean Zeb anymore. “...must learn, hm?” 

“What? They never teach ya’ first aid at the academy?” Zeb wasn’t trying to be insulting, rather he was genuinely interested. He’d always been curious about how much Imperial troops could care for themselves, versus how much they relied on their system for care. 

Alexsandr chuckled, shaking his head. “No, there is no need to be taught such things. We always had medical droids at hand, though I do see now not teaching the basics has put me in quite a...precarious situation.” 

Zeb’s lips tightened, his hands delicately placing bacta patches in the sections he’d cleaned free obvious signs of infection. “Seems, uh...reckless, ya’know? Sending troops out there with just a blaster and nothin’ else, training wise.” 

Alexsandr tilted his head, thinking about what Zeb had just said for a moment. “I would have assumed that was a good thing for you, after all it means easier battles for you. Add that with the fact an average stormtrooper cannot hit the side of a building…” He muttered that last statement under his breath, as if it were a genuine annoyance of his. 

Zeb was caught off guard by that, and laughed. Genuinely, truly, laughed. Resting his face against the bed for a moment, he spoke. “Ya’know, yer pretty ok to be around when you aren’t acting so high and mighty.” He glanced back up at Alexsandr, giving him a hearty smile. 

Despite the fever, Alexsandr’s cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. Glancing away, he muttered a small reply, “I suppose...Perhaps it is good…” He thought for a moment before making any more of the statement, after a few seconds adding, “it is good to get away from being so serious.” 

Zeb could see what the man meant, Kallus; no, Alexsandr, was seeing why it was good to be away from the Empire. At least he was opening up now, accepting his help. “Yea, I can second that.” He wiped away the last of the visible infection, smiling. “Let’s get this leg patched up, ok? Tomorrow, ya need to talk to Hera and Kanan. They’ve got questions for you.” 

Alexsandr tensed for a moment, thinking over the proposal. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, that is the least I could do for...them.” Mentally, he added ‘my saviors’. “Tomorrow, I will give what I know...Warning, it may not be what they have wanted to hear.” 

“They’ll listen to whatever you’ve got to say, ok?” Zeb finished by applying bacta patches to the leg, feeling relief that the treatment now seemed to actually be taking hold. “Rest, ok? Yer gonna need it for tomorrow.” Gently, he patted Alexsandr’s shoulder and stood up to go back to his own bunk. For the first time in four nights, they slept in the same room again. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me again! I hope you are enjoying. 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	4. The Ghost and The Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr Kallus answers questions posed by the crew, and his return to The Empire poses more questions than answers.

_ Zeb’s dream that night was filled with memories long repressed. He stood proud, guarding with his fellow Honor Guard as lasat of all ages gathered to hear their leadership speak. Watching out over the crowd, he felt himself smile. This was where he was meant to be, this is what his purpose was. He was meant to protect his fellow lasat, and he was accomplishing just that. He turned to look as their King and Queen approached up onto the observation platform, his body arching proudly at attention. Before the royalty even got their chance to speak the sky darkened with TIE-fighters, their roar filling his ears as the whole sky went black.  _

Awaking with a gasp, Zeb sat up and looked around. He was still on his bed. Quietly, he looked down at his claws to ensure he was all in one piece. “Karabast…” He muttered slowly to himself. The dream had been so realistic, it was a mixture of all the worst parts of the invasion that he could remember. 

“You’re awake.” Alexsandr peered up at Zeb, holding a holonovel in his lap like he had been waiting. “I heard you, you were having a nightmare weren’t you?” His voice was heavy with concern, Alexsandr actually was starting to feel comfortable around Zeb at this point. 

“I’m not talkin’ about this with you.” The words came out more of a growl than Zeb had intended, but they got their point across. This was not something that Alexsandr should push on. 

“Oh. Understood.” Alexsandr had replied quietly, Agent Kallus might have pushed back to get under Zeb’s skin but he was no longer that man. At least, not around Zeb he wasn’t. “In good news, the infection has not returned.” 

“Great.” Zeb’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he climbed down off his bunk. Checking the chrono, he saw it was early morning. Kanan and Hera would have already been up long before this point, so he could bring Kallus straight out for questioning. With his dream the night before, he wanted to do a lot more than just question the Imperial. “Come on, yer gonna answer a lotta our questions today.” 

Alexsandr felt a lump form in his throat, but he nodded and carefully attempted to stand up from the bed. He winced, hobbling for a moment before he leaned against the top bunk. “O-Of course…” A part of him did fear Zeb, especially since this morning seemed to have him be emotionally distant and cold without any warning. He still couldn’t put weight on his healing leg, so it was a painful trek into the common’s room where Kanan and Hera were waiting. Surprisingly, Zeb had him sit down on the C-Curved settee right next to Ezra. 

Hera looked over Kallus for a moment, scanning him with a watchful eye before she flashed a serious smile to Zeb. “Thank you, Zeb. Do you want to stay here while we question him?” She wanted to give him a choice. Despite having placed Kallus under Zeb’s responsibility, she understood some of the answers could be painful for Zeb given his history with the agent. 

“Yea, I do.” He crossed his arms, looking the agent over once. 

“Ok, Let’s get started.” Kanan carefully approached the agent, keeping his hand near his lightsaber on his hip. The agent might be injured, but he was still an enemy. “What was the Empire building on Geonosis?” His tone was deadly serious. They’d all seen the remains of the construction surrounding the planet's orbit. 

“I...I would tell you if I knew, I was just as surprised to see the wreckage as anyone. I wouldn’t have the clearance on such a project, I did not know there was major construction this far out into the Outer Rim.” He could see that was not what they wanted to hear based on the expressions on their faces, so he continued. “H-However, if it is anything like the construction on Lothal then it is most likely some sort of super-massive craft.” 

“Like a Star Destroyer?” Ezra was alarmed to hear of the construction on Lothal, after all it was his home and he hated to hear of the continued Imperial presence. “Wait...Is the Empire going to expand on Lothal? Like, more factories?” 

Alexsandr paused before gently nodding, facing Erza after a moment with twinges of sympathy. “I...only briefly saw the plans, but I believe so. I wouldn’t be able to tell you what they are building, however.” 

“We have to go back to Lothal!” Ezra stood up, only to be stopped by Kanan’s hand on his shoulder. “What? Kanan, Lothal needs us!” 

“That isn’t our mission right now, Ezra.” Kanan attempted to calm the fiery Padawan. He looked back at Kallus, narrowing his eyes. “There’s more you aren’t saying, isn’t there?” 

“Kallus.” Zeb lowered his voice, almost as if he were scolding Kallus for not telling them everything that they needed or wanted to know. 

There was something in him that had formed an attachment to Zeb; deeply. Alexsandr didn’t want to disappoint him, yet the information on Lothal’s factories was top secret. He’d already said too much, there was no way to go back. “The person interested in further development on Lothal…” Alexsandr glanced down at his hands, which were placed in his lap. “...His name is Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days followed similar patterns, with Hera and sometimes Kanan questioning Kallus on his imperial information. It seemed like he had answers into even the most obscure of questions, being able to answer about Imperial procedures that would be useful in upcoming missions. With Kallus as an information bank, more squads had been able to get away with cargo safely. Despite Sabine’s protest, they had even brought Kallus along as an information source on a few missions, though he was not considered part of the team. Kanan worried the man was playing his own game with them. 

The Ghost crew had been sent out to answer a rebel distress call deep in the Outer Rim. Fearing that the ships might have been attacked by pirates or the Mining Guild for ransom, the crew had been sent out with no time to put Kallus in a cell on Chopper Base. He would just have to come along for the ride. 

Watching beside Hera as they glided through hyperspace, Kanan felt a small tug through the force. Something was going to happen, though he did not know what. “Hera.” He spoke her name to alert her, but he did not manage to speak another word before The Ghost alarmed them that they were being ripped out of hyperspace. 

“Hold on!” Hera managed to safely stabilize The Ghost. Being pulled out of hyperspace so suddenly and chaotically had been a death sentence to ships before. 

Kanan looked out at a familiar, yet chilling sight. In front of them were the bare bones of a few rebel craft, and two Star Destroyers; The Interdictor and Ultimatum. “How did they manage to repair it so fast? We damaged those gravity wells only months ago.” Both impressed by the Empire’s determination and frightened by this ship being back in working order, he opened the door to the commons room. “We’ve got company!” 

Alexsandr had been playing a game on the holoprojector with Zeb. Since Kanan had not closed the door behind him when he exited the cockpit, he could see the two craft in front of them. Everyone on The Ghost had felt the ship lunge out of hyperspace, but this was worse than he could have imagined. “Do you know which ship that is?” There was urgency in his voice. If it was the Chimaera then they were all dead, but any other ship might give them a chance. 

Before Kanan could reply, the ship lunged back and forth, swaying violently. It almost knocked Kanan off his feet, and Ezra tumbled down from the latter leading up the main canon. 

“Hold on!” Hera called out, attempting to fight the tractor beam that was tightly pulling The Ghost into the underbelly of the main hull owned by the unknown Star Destroyer. “We’re getting pulled in, get ready for a fight!” 

“Karabast.” Zeb rushed from his seat, unfolding his bo-rifle from his back. He was able to stay standing despite the rough jerking and swaying as The Ghost was pulled past the shields, and inside the deck. 

Alexsandr took advantage of the chaos and made his way to the cockpit, immediately speaking to Hera. It was very clear that his panic was overriding the limp as he’d practically sprinted in. “Did you get to scan this ship? Is it the Chimaera?” He looked out at the deck which was flooding with Storm Troopers. Funnily enough, it was the first time in his life he actually felt fear inside an Imperial vessel.

“No, it’s the  _ Ultimatum _ . Go help the others!” She used a hand to shove him out of the cockpit, annoyed at his intrusion but distantly knowing that difference was important to something. Using the frontward canons, she blasted away Storm Troopers so they’d have a clear enough landing zone. 

Alexsandr hurried into the commons room again, looking among the crew as they prepared. He felt like he was putting them at further risk just by being on the ship. These people had been the only ones to ever show him kindness on the battlefield. They could have easily executed him, but they didn’t. For that, he had to help them. “Garazeb, Wren. I have an idea, take me hostage.” 

Zeb looked back at him like Kallus was absolutely insane. “Are you crazy?” 

“No, Zeb, this could actually work.” Sabine placed a hand on the lasat’s chest, using her other hand to point at Kallus. “If we offer him back, and say our terms are to be let go, it might actually work. Yeah the Empire didn’t come back for him, but they’re opportunists. It’ll at least give me sometime to do some damage to the TIES.” She flashed a playful smile, taking the time to pick up a bag of explosives. 

“Kal, you can’t think this is a good idea.” Zeb gently grabbed the man’s shoulders, his face clear with desperation and fear. “They’ll try to get information out of ya, I...” 

He gave the lasat a reserved smile, placing his hand over the other’s and answering. “Better me than you, remember I am trained for this. If all goes well, I will be contacting you from the inside.” He calmly pulled away, but internally he was screaming. He did not want to do this, but if it would keep The Ghost crew safe then he had to. For Zeb, he thought. 

Zeb and Sabine walked Kallus to the boarding platform, Sabine holding one of her blasters to his skull. As the ramp lowered, she whispered. “It's set to stun.” 

“I suppose that is less frightening.” Alexsandr whispered back, trying to sound less shaken by this plan than he actually was. 

In front of them was a squadron of Storm Troopers, weapons drawn. They seemed surprised by the fact that the Rebels they’d drawn in had a prisoner. A voice spoke out from behind the squadron, and the soldiers split to let the speaker through. Standing there was a woman none of the crew had seen before, but who Kallus seemed to know. “Ah, Agent Kallus. I was told you were missing in action.” 

“Captain Rae Sloane.” A part of him relaxed, if he was on her Star Destroyer then she wouldn’t think twice over his story. Not like Grand Admiral Thrawn. “I was momentarily, until I was captured by these rebel scum. I can assure you I have told them nothing.” Alexsandr slipped easily back into his agent persona, stiffing again and wiping all emotion from his face.

She nodded, then looked to the crew who were standing around in a semicircle with Sabine at the front. “I assume you want a trade for the return of our agent?” 

“Yes.” Hera spoke up, her firm yet understanding tone was perfect for negotiations. Not that the crew had run into situations like this before anyway. With Kanan at her side, she spoke to the Captain. “If you want the agent back without a hole in his skull, you will have to let me and my crew off your ship unharmed.” She stressed the last word, unharmed. 

Captain Sloane thought for a moment, motioning for the troopers to lower their weapons. “We...will accept your offer. However, do not imagine that this will be our last meeting.” 

Sabine shoved Kallus forward, letting Storm Troopers catch him since the leg made him stumble. “I didn’t realize they thought he was so important.” 

The Captain carefully spoke to her soldiers, and then to Kallus himself. For some reason, it seemed like she was relieved to have him back relatively safely. As they moved away, she spoke to him in a low serious voice. “There are some questions, officials want to know what you saw on Geonosis.” 

Ezra moved into The Ghost, speaking to Sabine as they headed back in, “Not important enough to look for, I guess?” 

Kanan and Hera didn’t enter the ship until the other troopers had followed the Captain's order to follow her back. Softly, Hera spoke to Kanan “I don’t trust this. I’m putting all power in the shields.” 

Zeb didn’t trust this, he didn’t want to leave Kallus behind in such a dangerous situation. He focused on Kallus being led away, his eyes watching closely at him. They traded glances before Hera pulled him into the ship. He hoped that he’d see Kallus again soon, and that he’d be in once piece when he did.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Hey! I hope you are all doing well. 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You.
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	5. Transmissions from Lothal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr Kallus finally gets closer to Thrawn, and Zeb finds himself yearning to hear from the ex-agent.

Like promised, Kallus had managed to keep in contact with Phoenix squadron; and by extension the rest of the rebellion. The signals had started a month after the odd negotiation aboard Captain Rae Sloane’s craft, and were independent from most of their other Fulcrum spy messages which typically came at night. Usually his messages were in short bursts, like when he was being transported between different Star Destroyers and authorized to use his own craft. Kallus’s position afforded him some luxury, including trust and privacy. This, however, did not mean he was any less at risk. 

Zeb had done morning rounds through the storage units on Chopper Base alongside AP-5, who had been complaining loudly about the supposed lack of organization compared to Imperial command centers. Moving over to the communications equipment, he spoke with a twinge of hope. “Anything new?” He meant; anything new from Kallus. Being seen as a lonely little lasat kit was not on his agenda for the day, so he didn’t say it aloud. 

“No, we got a message from a Fulcrum informant near Coruscant that there’s more workers pulled from the lower levels but nothing from the others.” Sabine sighed, brushing the hair back out of her face. It had recently been re-dyed a neon green and midnight black. 

“Great.” Zeb huffed, his ears flattening against his head in frustration. He’d hoped that Kallus would come through and deliver some new information, but it’d been a week since the man’s last broadcast. “I just wish Hera would give us something to do, no point in sitting here all day waiting.” 

“Me too, but her and Rex are on a supply run, and Kanan took Ezra out to study or something. There’s nothing to do, unless you want to jump a ship and find trouble.” Trouble always found the teenaged Mando, like a duck to water. 

“Eh, I have a feelin’ Hera would more than tell us off if we left the base with two less guards.” He pulled up an empty crate, sitting down next to her. 

There was a comfortable moment of silence shared between them before Sabine spoke again, scraping some peeling paint off her hand piece. “You...worry about him, don’t you? About Agent Kallus?” 

“What?” Zeb tried to seem surprised, shaking his head with a slight nervous chuckle. “No, nah, nope. He’s got his thing, I’ve got mine, they don’t really...mesh.” He scratched the back of his head, avoiding her watchful eyes. 

“Then who else are you waiting for?” She motioned to the transponder set and long range communications gear in front of them, looking back up for an answer. 

Zeb was silent, no answer available aside from the fact he did desperately want to hear Kallus’s voice. Even garbled beyond recognition, and layered under encoding, he still wanted to hear from him. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Sabine shrugged, leaning back against her seat. “But if it is him then you’ve got weird tastes.” 

Abandoning the conversation as quickly as it had begun, both took to repairs on their weapons. Zeb unfolded his bo-rifle, oiling it down and cautiously assessing a dent from a few fuel runs ago. He wondered if Kallus had known the proper way to keep up the weapon. He’d have to teach the man when he’d got back. He’d watch the man’s eyes focus in that beautiful way they squinted when he was learning. He’d seen it once when he unfolded the bo-rifle to make a splint, and that expression had him hooked. He wanted to share information with Kallus. Anything and everything. 

The sound of an incoming transmission threw Zeb out of his daydream. Quickly, he beat Sabine to pressing the answer key. In front of them floated the bright blue image of the Fulcrum icon, which wavered slightly but never faded. 

“This is Fulcrum. I have news from the _Interdictor_.” The garbled voice sounded distressed, as it were having to deliver the message under less than favorable conditions. “I am being reassigned to Grand Admiral Thrawn’s fleet, which is set to arrive at Lothal by early morning. I have learned more of the Grand Admiral’s production goals there, but that will have to wait. There is not much time to deliver this message, but know there is something happening on Lothal. I will attempt to keep you informed. Fulcrum out.” Just as soon as the voice spoke, it was gone. The Fulcrum icon disappeared from their sight. 

“Karabast.” Zeb had at least hoped he’d be able to get a word out to Kallus, but it looked like that’d be impossible today. If Kallus was being moved to Thrawn’s fleet, that meant he was further in danger. Why couldn’t he just pull Kallus out of there? He wished he could keep the human safe, but the most he could do was get the recording to central command. 

With Thrawn on the stand, it was clear that things were about to get a lot more stressful for Chopper Base and the Phoenix squadron. 

————————

Since being reassigned to Lothal, Kallus had not found time to transmit many messages to the rebellion despite having information to share. He had learned more of the manufacturing efforts, and the continued lockdowns on the people of Lothal. The treatment of the common people was further radicalizing him more by the hour. Before meeting Zeb and truly hearing him out, he wouldn’t have noticed the injustices. He would have shaken it off as entitlement, after all he had believed the Empire to be the best option for anyone. He was...beginning to question everything he had been taught. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but necessary nonetheless. 

Carefully, he slipped out of the Imperial headquarters into the cool night. The air felt refreshing. For all the carefully planned ventilation in Imperial structures, nothing matched the feeling of non-filtered air. The wind wrestled with the cloak he had hidden his uniform with, threatening to rip it off his head. He silently cursed the fact that there wasn’t a way to get more comfortable clothing. After feeling the real cloth shirt that the rebels had given him, the Imperial artificial cloth just hadn’t felt comfortable. Locating the speeder he’d hidden away and carefully walking it out of the main city, he locked his eyes onto the old communications tower that Ezra had called home. Kallus had convinced himself that it was simply the signal that drew him there, and not the feeling of home it oddly provided. 

He didn’t activate the speeder till he was way outside of the city limits, hoping that’d keep him from being spotted. Since Thrawn’s arrival, Governor Pryce had cracked down heavily on the curfew. Getting questioned on his intentions outside of the city at this hour was not going to end well no matter what he’d say. Hurrying away on the now roaring speeder, he let himself become lost in thoughts. Zeb had been appearing in his dreams, no matter how harshly he told himself he likely would never see the lasat again. Had Zeb been thinking about him too? Did he haunt Zeb’s thoughts like Zeb had haunted his? He pushed hard against the forming emotions, they would only lead to more disappointment. He was a tool to the rebellion, like he’d been to the empire. 

The base of the comms tower rose in front of him like an artificial mountain, and he carefully slowed the speeder. Parking, he hid it away behind the base. Glancing around, he silently activated the turbolift to the balcony. A familiar sense of envy filled him as he moved into the main room, where he’d stashed away the communications equipment. His eyes glazed over the helmets Bridger had placed with care on all the open surfaces. They brought back the emotions of his cadet days, the feeling of mutual hope and fear. He’d been in the empire since childhood, could he really change himself? He felt intensely conflicted, yet motivated to follow morality. 

Hoping to distract himself from these thoughts of the past, Alexsandr powered up the long range communications gear. He knew it would take a moment for anyone on Chopper Base to receive the transmission, so carefully he flipped through written notes. Once the buttons flashed green, informing him that he’d been received at the base, he spoke. “This is Fulcrum.” 

“This is base.” Zeb’s voice struck Kallus off guard. 

Alexsandr took a deep breath in, hoping there was no one else with Zeb as he received the message. If it was just Zeb, he knew he wouldn’t be judged for tripping over his words. Why did Zeb make him so nervous; was it the fear of judgement? “News from Lothal, Grand Admiral Thrawn is meeting along with Governor Pryce and Admiral Konstantine to discuss rebel activity and the possibility of a traitor inside of the Imperial headquarters. I do not have reason to believe I am suspected, so I will attempt to gain access to their conversation.” 

“Ok, report what you hear as soon as possible.” Hera’s voice sounded more sure than Zeb’s, and it made Alexsandr draw in a nervous breath. She intimidated him, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. 

“Acknowledged, Fulcrum out.” Alexsandr turned off all equipment, leaning back with a sigh. At least he knew that Zeb was safe, that was all the motivation he needed to keep going. 

\---------------

Zeb had stayed by the transponder on The Ghost, hoping that they’d hear from Fulcrum once again as promised. He’d been worried when no message came, after all what would happen if Kallus was captured? Would they kill him? Zeb didn’t admit it to anyone else, but he worried for Kallus to the point of exhaustion. The crew had no way to know just how horribly things had gone for Kallus, nor the fact that Thrawn was on the way to Chopper Base. 

Outside, the action of the gathering rebel squadrons gave Zeb some hope. If the assault on Lothal worked as planned then he wouldn’t need to wait for a transmission to talk to Kallus again; he’d just see him face to face. Huffing slightly, he watched Hera move to enter The Ghost. “Still nothin’.” 

“I’m worried too, Zeb.” Hera crossed her arms, looking at the comms equipment with a scowl before she finally spoke again. “But, I think this will work. Ezra and Kanan managed to talk another group into joining the battle.” 

“That’s not it…” Zeb tapped his claws against the scanner, sighing. 

“Zeb.” Hera calmly knelt beside him, placing a motherly hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok, Kallus would have told us if something was wrong. This will work.” She patted his shoulder one more time, then stood up. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! There's some confusion on why I pulled this down off A03. I wanted to do major edits, mostly in the beginning chapters, so I pulled it down not exactly thinking. I know, I know, it's silly. It is NOT AO3's fault at ALL. I hope you can forgive me being inconvenient, and I hope you continue to enjoy my work. 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	6. Torture and Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr Kallus is punished for betraying the Empire and Ezra sees a not so distant future.

Alexsandr felt himself being dragged by his arms. He had been badly beaten, but not killed. That is how he knew the worst was yet to come, if they hadn’t killed him then there must be something they wanted him to see. His head felt like it was pounding, and when his eyes opened the world spun. He could immediately see Governor Pryce and Grand Admiral Thrawn, but could only assume there were others who were there to view the supposed ‘end’ of the rebellion. The planet in front of them must’ve been important, but he had been injected with so many forms of truth serum that he couldn’t quite make out why. Thrawn was ordering someone through holocron, and he thought he vaguely recognized him as Admiral Konstantine. 

Alexsandr had no idea why, but he felt relief when rebel fighters entered from behind the Chimaera. All he could do was smirk, and then chuckle. It hurt to laugh, something must’ve been wrong with his lungs. He was able to keep himself awake long enough to see the Interdictor’s gravity wells destroyed, and the first rebel craft make it into hyperspace.  _ Good. _

“Zeb...” He wished them good luck, which only seemed to make Pryce angered at him. He felt a backhand against his face which only made him chuckle harder.  _ They were safe, they were safe. _ The last thought he had before being plunged into darkness again was of Zeb. With the rebel crafts making it out of the system, it seemed like the Empire would have no more use for Kallus. 

“Throw him out the airlock, we have no more need for the rebel scum.” Governor Pryce’s words held anger, alongside her own fear. Fear that the Empire would dispose of her as well, after all she had been a part of this failed mission. 

“No, Governor.” With graceful steps, Thrawn examined the unconscious ex-agent by tilting his chin upwards with an artistic wave of his hand. “We might still have use for him, take him to my interrogation room. Governor, I will allow you to...question him while I make a transmission to Lord Vader.” He began to walk away, towards his office, before turning to Pryce once again. “Oh, and use an open communications channel on a rebel frequency. Show them what will happen to traitors.” 

\-----------

The retreat from Chopper Base had the rebel fleet limping, if not for the continued vigilance and hopeful words of the rebel leaders the cause might have died today. Zeb was not celebrating, Kallus was still missing with no word. By this point he could only assume that the man was dead, the thought made his blood run cold and his eyes blur with tears. Today had not been a matter of victory, rather survival. 

Hera had been silent inside of the cockpit, too focused on following the fleet's movements into hyperspace so they would not be traced back to Yavin Four. As the rest of the crew sorted through the supplies they had managed to collect before the assault, she carefully glanced down at the ship’s comm system. It was flashing with an incoming message from an unknown source, “Hey guys, get in here.” She leaned back, calling to the rest of the crew. It was a tight fit, but they managed to crowd behind her. 

“What is it, Hera?” Kanan set a hand on her shoulder, his eyes blinded but his force-sense telling him exactly where she would be. 

“We’ve got an incoming transmission from an unknown source, it's better to answer it before we head to the next jump in case it's some sort of tracking signal.” Hera twisted around in her chair around so she could be mostly facing the crew, and motioned to Sabine. “Patch it through, we want that signal to be strong in case it's one of our missing ships.” 

Zeb felt extremely hopeful, he thought of Kallus somehow finding a transport and getting away, or Kallus just surviving in general. He was front and center, hoping that he’d get to see the man alive in the holo. Instead, the crew was greeted by Governor Pryce and a badly broken Kallus. The man was strapped to an interrogation table, and seemed to be wavering the line between unconsciousness and consciousness. 

“Rebel scum, I am granting you the privilege of seeing what happens to your own kind.” This wasn’t a localized message, no, Kallus’s suffering was being broadcast to the entire rebel fleet. She stepped aside, showing an IT-O Interrogator droid who quickly followed the orders seemingly issued by Pryce. It hovered over and pushed its injector needle deep into his rib cage, which was made easier by the fact he’d been stripped of clothes down to his waist. His chest was covered in deep lacerations. She asked no questions before this action, no. Pryce just wanted to see him suffer. And suffer he did, his nerves lighting up bright red and forcing her victim to scream. “This is only the beginning, run all you’d like, but you can never hide from the Galactic Empire.” The transmission closed then, leaving the cockpit in eerie silence. 

“We’ve gotta go back for him, if we don’t they’re gonna kill him.” Zeb was the first to speak up, just the imagery of Kallus being hurt that badly sent anger deep within him like a fire raging faster and faster through his soul. 

“He might already be dead,” Spoke Rex, who had folded his arms and seemed to be feeling just as sourly about Kallus’s fate as Zeb. “If that’s pre-recorded then we’d be walking into a trap.” 

“And if it’s not?” Zeb scowled at the old clone, “Then he’s going to die. What happened to never leavin’ anyone behind?” 

“Zeb. He’s right, we just can’t afford to go back right now. We barely made it out alive today, we can’t risk a rescue mission.” Hera hated this just as much as Zeb and Rex, after all it meant they were leaving behind one of their most successful information sources. 

“Fine...but as soon as I can, I’m going back.” Zeb needed to get Kallus back. If he was going to be tortured by Pryce, Zeb was going to be the one to get him back before he was lost forever. 

“Zeb.” Hera lowered her voice, shaking her head. “We don’t even know where he is.” 

“No, but we can find out.” Sabine turned back to their communication equipment, sorting through the information about the transmission. “For all of Pryce’s confidence, she forgets the simplest things.” 

“Can you track it back Sabine?” Zeb needed some kind of hope, holding his breath and waiting for a response. 

“Yeah...It looks like they were near Coruscant.” If Kallus was already being transported to Coruscant then there was very little chance to get him back. The city was on full Imperial lockdown since the first Empire Day, there was no way to sneak in and out without intense screening. 

“Karabast.” Zeb ran his hands over his face, thinking of the implications. 

“All we can do now is continue what he helped us create, Zeb. It’s what he would want.” Hera looked sympathetically up at the lasat. She knew if the roles were reversed and it was Kanan imprisoned she’d be just as restless. 

\-----------------

A month had passed since Kallus’s capture, and the torture was non-stop. He could no longer feel his fingers, and he constantly felt as though his nerves were on fire. He’d been allowed no food, nor water. His own tears were even beginning to run dry, which had been his main emotional relief. He assumed there was water in his injections everyday, or he’d be dead; but he didn’t care to ask. Death would be a relief. Layers of cuts, burns, and bruises had turned his pale skin into a patchwork blanket of pain. His most recent wound, a branding in the shape of the Fulcrum icon, had been burned over his left eye. He could barely see out of it, and the hot prickling of the surrounding skin reminded him of the past infection of his leg. The very same leg which had been rebroken. He was allowed to sleep one day per week, and that was how he’d managed to keep time. 

Unlike days before, two Death Troopers entered his cell and removed his bindings.  _ Good, they’ve finally come to kill me.  _ The troopers let him collapse onto the metal grating. His cramped muscles screamed with relief, he’d been in that position the whole time of his captivity. Walking was out of the question, so he felt vague relief when the troopers picked him up by his arms. He thought about muttering a brief thanks, but he still had his only slightly shattered pride. 

Dragged down the hallway, thoughts flooded Alexsandr’s mind. Were they finally going to execute him? Was he being taken to worse torture? There was no way to know, that is why it was so surprising to see the transport ahead of them. It was being loaded with other prisoners, and deep down Alexsandr felt excited to see other living beings again. The troopers forced a metallic gag over his mouth and lower jaw before pushing him onto the loading platform. He was pushed by two new guards, who were standard issue troopers, into a singular cell. Immediately, he collapsed onto the floor and curled into a fetal position. He thought he might just die right there, certainly there was worse to come. 

The ship’s loading dock shifted before it sealed shut, and beneath him; Alexsandr felt the ship lift off. Wherever they were going, he was going to need his rest. Shutting his eyes, Alexsandr hoped they wouldn’t open again. 

\----------

Ezra’s abilities with the force had grown much stronger, with visions coming much more frequently and with more clarity. Climbing down from the roof turret, Ezra’s mind began to flash through images. First was a man he barely recognized as Agent Kallus, who was in some sort of ship transport cell. Next was a man with an electrical whip, who brought it down several times on the already tortured man. An older man, someone Ezra had never seen before, stepped forward and asked Kallus about something called _StarDust._ Snapping back to reality, Ezra knew he had to search out Kanan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for checking in on my work! I hope you’re enjoying it! 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	7. Rescue and Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr Kallus rejoins The Ghost and Crew on Yavin 4 and Zeb helps Alexsandr begin to heal.

Hera wandered her way into the common room of her ship where Rex and Zeb were playing some sort of card game, Sabine was painting on one of the few free spaces, and Ezra was talking to Kanan about some sort of vision that he had. “Well.” She spoke, getting the crew's attention. “We finished our mission for today, try to rest.” Yavin Four had been a hub of activity since the destruction of Chopper Base, so rest was certainly welcome. 

“Hera, I think you need to hear this.” Kanan motioned for her to join him and Ezra in the loading dock, away from the others. Once the door shut behind them, Kanan spoke again in a low tone. “Ezra had a vision of Agent Kallus, he believes he’s alive.” 

“What did you see?” Hera was interested in this, of course. She had been haunted by the thought they’d left Kallus behind for dead. 

“He was on some sort of prison transport ship, there were other people too, but...he looked bad. Like, he was dying. Hera, I think they’re going to kill him.” Ezra felt so guilty, but also desperate. If they did not help Kallus now, he’d be lost forever. “Plus there was this guy questioning him, I think they want information out of him too.” 

“Well...Last time we received information on him was acknowledging his place in the Imperial prison on Coruscant, I don’t know why they’d be transferring him...but if you think we could do something to help him, I’ll trust your judgement.” Hera crossed her arms, wondering if there was really a chance the empire had kept Kallus alive this long. 

“Transport ships like that have to send out regular transponder readings to prove there hasn’t been a mutiny, so if we could track that reading it should lead us right to the ship. Even if Kallus isn’t there, prison ships are good places for recruits.” Ezra wanted to justify this mission, in truth he knew Kallus would be there. The force had shown him that for a reason. 

Hera sighed, nodding. “Ok, we’ll do it, but…” She crossed her arms, thinking over her next words. “Don’t tell Zeb that Kallus could be there, no point in getting his hopes up for nothing.” 

The Ghost crew was informed of the new mission as a way to rescue political prisoners, and with Sabine and Ezra’s communication expertise they did manage to track a prison ship out to the Jedha system. The ship's external logs indicated it had been launched from Coruscant’s maximum security prison only earlier that day. The list of prisoners was grayed out, not showing any identifying information aside from a number. 

“Looks like we’re lucky, the ship is between destinations, so it’ll be easy to board and find the prisoners we need.” Sabine made it sound easy, programming the hyperspace jump into their navicomputer. 

“Let’s hope we catch those bucket-heads on break.” Zeb hated prison ships, they always reminded him of the purge on Lasan and how his people had been carted away for the Empire. He just hoped that they’d get in and out quickly. Zeb’s mind had been darkened for weeks with the thought of Kallus’s death, but having something to do was helping that. It made him feel useful. As The Ghost jumped out of hyperspace, Zeb felt his heart sink. There was something about the single prison ship that made him feel unease, it was so lonely. The crew decided that it would be Ezra and Kanan who would pretend to be stormtroopers, and bring Zeb on as a new ‘prisoner’. This would hopefully give them time to look around for prisoners. Watching as the two humans changed into the gear, he set down his bo-rifle. He couldn’t bring it on this mission, no matter how much he wanted to. 

“We’re taking The Phantom.” Kanan pulled on his last arm piece, adjusting it before guiding Zeb and Ezra up into the transport. “Ezra, you take the lead, I’m going to send out those codes so the ship doesn’t suspect our approach.” 

Zeb felt his nerves flare up again once they launched from The Ghost. He listened as Kanan transmitted codes to the prison ship, and tried to calm his nerves. They’d get on, and off, quickly he told himself. That was really the only relief he could bring himself. Surprisingly, the out of date codes had worked, and they soon were guided into the dock of this Imperial prison transport ship. “I guess I’ll need to be cuffed for this to work, huh?” 

“Yeah, sorry about that Zeb.” Kanan carefully placed handcuffs around the lasats wrists, making sure they were loose enough that Zeb would break out of them in a fight. Kanan and Ezra donned the helmets, guiding Zeb out of The Phantom. 

A single stormtrooper was waiting for them when they got off, “Hey, we weren’t expecting new prisoners?” 

“No, you were expecting us.” Kanan waved his hand in front of the trooper, who then nodded. 

“Yes, I was expecting you.” 

“You will take us to the high security cells.” Kanan, once again, used that extremely helpful mind trick. 

“I will take you to the high security cells.” The trooper started towards a set of blast doors, opening them and leading the three down a hallway. The cells were empty, a sign of something highly unusual. “Your arrival time is irregular, most prisoners were dropped off in the Myto sector. However, there is one high security prisoner that Grand Moff Tarkin has requested to question before execution, I suppose you could put your prisoner next to his cell.” 

Kanan shifted forward slightly, only for Ezra to attempt the mind trick his master was so fond of. 

“You will lead us to the prisoner.” Ezra was practically buzzing with excitement, Zeb had seen him practicing this effect for ages now. Most of the time it failed since he was lacking in focus, but today the padawan was on a mission. 

“I…” The trooper nodded, acknowledging the request. “I will lead you to the prisoner.”

He led them down the hall, dismissing two stormtroopers who were guarding a cell at the very end of the hall. Typing in a code, the door slid open. Inside, laying on the grated floor, nearly dead, was Alexsandr Kallus. 

\-----------------------

When the door slid open, Alexsandr could tell that there was light filtering in. He lightly groaned, annoyed that the trooper wouldn’t just let him save his energy. It wasn’t like he could move himself or yell at them anyway, his body refused to acknowledge any command he gave it. He’d completely given up, wondering if this is what all those rebels he’d sent to the Imperial prisons had experienced. Perhaps it was some sort of cruel, cosmic karma. He’d probably deserved this. 

When the sound of blaster shots rang out, he attempted to open his eyes fully. His eyelids barely fluttered enough to show him a large, oddly purple figure in the doorway with two stormtroopers. It made no sense, who were these people? Why was one of them, the purple one, calling his name like his life depended on it. 

“Kal!” The figure carefully moved into frame, wrapping its warm hands underneath Alexsandr’s fragile body. “Karabast, Kanan, he's still alive but barely. Cover me, I’m gonna carry’em. ” 

Groaning as he was moved, Alexsandr leaned against the figure. He searched through his mind for who this could be, but all he kept thinking was one word; safe. So that’s what Alexsandr called this person in his mind. This person was safety, this person meant life. Was this a dream? Had he finally died? There was no telling. 

The sound of blasters filled his ears, and he could feel himself being carried very quickly, but aside from that everything was too foggy to be certain. Finally warm again, Alexsandr allowed himself to sleep. 

\------------

It was a miracle Kallus wasn’t dead. When that cell door opened the ex-imperial was the last person that Zeb had expected to see. His body was covered in bruises, and practically a corpse. Zeb had never seen a human look so close to death. The rest had been pure instinct, with Kanan and Ezra covering him from laser fire. Somehow, someway, they’d gotten back to The Phantom in one piece. Zeb carefully held onto the human, not willing to let go as they jumped into hyperspace to meet up with The Ghost. “Hey...Kal? Can ya’ hear me? It’s Zeb, I’m right here. Everything is ok.” 

The human responded with only a fluttering of his eyes. Zeb felt like he may break Kallus just by holding him, no matter how gentle he attempted to be. He could feel the man’s ribs, hips, and shoulder blades like dull knives. How long had they let Kallus starve? How badly had they beaten the man? There were wounds on the human’s body that didn’t even seem possible. “Oh Kal…” Zeb sighed. “M’sorry, We should’ve come sooner.” 

Ezra glanced back at the two, but had decided to stay up front with Kanan. He was silent, feeling through the force like he was sure Kanan was. Kallus’s anguish was palpable through the force, and almost too much for even Kanan. Ezra softly whispered. “Is...he going to die?” 

“I don’t know Ezra.” Kanan shook his head, briefly glancing back at Zeb before gently speaking to Ezra again. “For Zeb’s sake, I hope not.” 

\---------------

 _It hurts. It hurts so badly._ Alexsandr’s whole body felt like it was on fire, it took him a moment to breathe. His mind raced, where was he? Was he still in that cell? No, no, that couldn’t be right. He was too warm to be in that cell. His legs throbbed, but it was better than not feeling them at all. _Mother, please. Help me._ It had been years since he’d called out for his parents, at the academy they’d trained out the response. Now all he had was the desire to be held. The world wouldn’t stop spinning, feeling as though he were underwater. Was he? Something was jammed down his throat, making him choke and sputter, and he felt naked aside from cloth against his swollen legs. Carefully, his eyes opened. Surrounding him was some sort of greenish-blue liquid, forming around him like oil. 

He began to panic, everything felt slow. Outside the tank, figures moved around. _The Empire wouldn’t put effort into saving me like this, was I rescued?_ The memories returned slowly, first he thought of the transfer onto the prison ship, then the door opening. _Zeb, he came back for me._ The feeling of tugging lit his back on fire, and Kallus was raised out of the tank. His ears began to ring, and he pulled the breathing device straight out of his mouth. It immediately made him begin to gag. 

“Kal, Stop!” A hand reached, carefully pressing against the man’s shoulder as he was placed on a bed of sorts. “Stop it, it’s ok.” Zeb was standing right next to the man’s med bed, helping a medic keep him calm. “Are ya’ back to me? Do you remember me?”

“Zeb…” He nodded, pulling away from the touch of the medic yet not from Zeb’s hand on his chest. The pain was still present, but he felt slightly stronger. No longer did his body feel on the verge of giving up. He weakly smiled, “Zeb…” 

“Yeah.” Zeb nodded, sighing in relief before he knelt down beside the bed. “Yeah, I’m here. How do you feel?” _It’s good to hear his voice_ , Zeb thought. “I...thought I lost ya’ back there.” 

Alexsandr shook his head, looking around. He seemed to be in a temple, surrounded by empty beds and medics of all sorts. Great walls made of ancient stone made up the base of this room, and outside the room he could see dozens of ships parked. “Thrawn...knows...I tried to warn..” 

“I know you did, I know.” Zeb smiled at him, trying to give the impression that no one blamed Kallus for being unable to warn them about Thrawn’s attack on Chopper base. “It’s been awhile since he attacked, Kal.” 

“How long?” Alexsandr couldn’t remember how long he had been under Pryce’s control, the days had blended together. “Weeks? Months?” 

“Kal...it was a month, plus some for us to get to ya’” Zeb’s ears drooped, his face falling with guilt. “I’m...sorry.” Zeb knew that they couldn’t have gone any faster to the man’s rescue, but he still felt guilty. 

It took Alexsandr a moment to process that information, his hands wandering up to his face where he could feel the stiffness of his brand mark. It was beginning to heal now, scarring over and leaving him permanently known as a Fulcrum agent. “My face...How bad is the wound?” 

“See for yer’ self…” Zeb carefully searched through the bedside table, retrieving a small pocket mirror. He held it up for Kallus, knowing that it’d fall through his bandaged fingers. 

_Who is that?_ Alexsandr didn’t recognize himself. His cheek bones were high and angular, gaunt from starvation. Dark, sunken shadows led to his blood shot eyes. His hair was long, reaching nearly to his ears and his beard looked unkempt. The newest addition, however, was the currently scarring over Fulcrum symbol on his left eye and cheek. He stared for a long moment before his eyes began to cloud with tears. 

“Hey, Hey, Hey.” Zeb’s voice was hushed with worry, and he carefully sat the mirror in the man’s lap. “You aren’t ugly or anythin’, that scar is going to be kriffing amazing once it heals.” _I have to be his rock, I have to give him someone to believe in again,_ thought Zeb. 

“It’s not that...I just hadn’t realized how much I let myself look wild.” Alexsandr raised his hands, trying to brush his hair back only for it to fluff up and fall back into place. “I should go shave.” _I can do that, can’t I? Or does the rebel command have me on lockdown? Am I a prisoner here despite being rescued?_ Doing anything for himself would help Alexsandr’s pride, but he found his legs completely unresponsive. _Move, Dank farrik!_ Alexsandr tried again, but only up to his hips responded. “Zeb?” His voice was filled with panic, his eyes widening with fear. 

“Your legs were broken when we found you, but so far the bacta hasn’t been able to help ya’ walk. But, I’m here for ya’, Kal. I can be your legs till you get yours back.” Zeb wanted to offer to be by him forever, but he had no idea how Kallus felt for him. 

“My legs…” This was all too much at once, Alexsandr just wanted to run. He wanted to spar and to do something; anything. He felt completely and utterly useless. Carefully moving away the blankets, Alexsandr found himself wearing boxers but nothing else. His legs were blackened, swollen, and misshapen. _Will I ever walk again?_

“You're safe, I promise.” Zeb could see how distant Kallus was, he just wanted the man to talk to him but what could he possibly say to start the conversation. “Are you hungry? You look like you haven’t eaten since the first Empire Day.” 

He nodded, looking at his hands for a moment before he whispered. “Just...a ration, ok? Don’t waste food that could go to the pilots or ground troops.” _Do not give them more reason to hate me. I do not want wasted resources._

“Kal, look at me.” Zeb gently pressed a claw under the man’s chin, delicately lifting it up so they were looking into eachother’s eyes. “You’re a rebel, like me and the rest of the crew. We’re all in this together, it’s not being wasted at all.” 

The human was reluctant at first, but did agree with a soft nod. “But not anything more than a ration, ok? I will agree to that much.” It seemed like there was no talking the man out of that condition. 

“Ok, wait here.” Zeb got up, going to seek out the cafeteria staff. Yavin Four was a much larger operation than Chopper Base had been, so it had gardens and a kitchen staff. 

_Where else am I going to go?_ Alexsandr didn’t say it, but he had to think that. He was used to cold, calculated conversations. This improvisation was a new skill to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say after this addition, hope you’re enjoying! 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	8. Data-Tapes and Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kallus gets to work at Yavin 4, and Zeb admits his feelings.

The cocktail of drugs side of Alexsandr’s system actually seemed to be helping, in addition to daily bacta soaks. Soon he was able to get fully dressed and walk alongside Zeb with only a limp. Which meant he immediately put himself to work where he’d be best suited, providing insight and data. But, that didn’t mean work clouded all of his mind. 

Everyone could see they were falling for eachother. When Kallus was tucked away working in the information and data center, Zeb seemed distracted and whenever Zeb left for a mission; Kallus’s efforts towards scanning Imperial chatter doubled. Despite not openly expressing it, love was blossoming on Yavin Four. 

Thrawn’s fleet had been active intensely in the system surrounding Lothal, so a lot of the chatter Kallus heard was also things he could pass onto Ezra. Simple things, yet news nonetheless. It was common for him to work long into the night, after others had left the center in exchange for their bunks. 

“Someone’s workin’ late.” A familiar, gruff voice filled the silence. Zeb stood in the doorway, giving Kallus a playful smile. “I brought you caf, figured you’d probably need it.” Carefully, he set the mug down beside the ex-imperial. 

“Ah, my savior.” Alexsandr looked up at the lasat, his face edged with exhaustion. He hadn’t given himself much time to recover. Once he’d been able to walk again, he’d immediately started working. His frame was still only ten pounds heavier than before, making his new clothes seem baggy. “What  _ would _ I do without you?” 

“Well, work ya’self to death probably.” Zeb pulled up a chair, sitting down so he could share a rare moment with the ex-imperial. Comfortably, they sat in silence for a moment while Kallus drank the caf. Once he was done, Zeb cautiously asked. “ _ Alex _ ...have you thought about talki-“ 

He was cut off, Alexsandr’s eyes weary and heavy. “Zeb, I don’t need to talk about it.”  _ He wants me to talk about my torture, does he not know I relive it every time I close my eyes?  _

“You’re workin’ yourself to death, you don’t eat, when’s the last time you slept huh?” When an answer didn’t come, he cupped the other’s cheek and forced him to look at him. “ _ Kal.  _ You need to rest, I know ya don’t want to but this is enough work for today.” Zeb scooped him out of his seat, holding him with all the delicate nature he would use on a Loth cat. 

“I suppose you aren’t giving me much option.” Admitting defeat, he leaned into the warmth of Zeb’s chest. Oddly, he wasn’t taken to his own small room given to him as a captain’s quarters. Instead, Zeb walked out with him to The Ghost. Luckily, there were very few people up at such an hour. “You really do edge humiliation for me whenever you make me seem unable to care for myself, are you aware of that?” 

“Hm.” The sound came out as a huff in the lasat’s chest. “Well I know you rest when I make you, so I’m goin’ to guess it’s worth it.” Zeb opened his small room, stepping inside and settling Kallus on the bottom bunk. Carefully, he shifted himself into the small space as well. Like a hug, he wrapped his arms around the ex-imperial. “Rest”, he rumbled. 

The human nodded, yet it seemed like he could not actually keep himself asleep. He’d nod off, then snap awake again. After the tenth time of this cycle, he softly whined. “I cannot.” 

“Can’t do what? Sleep?” It was alarming, but not really surprising. The torture that Zeb knew his soul mate had experienced was enough to give anyone sleepless nights, and that wasn’t including what he didn’t know. 

“I keep...thinking about  _ it _ .” Unlike most things, talking about traumatic experiences was not something Alexsandr would describe directly. He’d use ‘it’ and ‘them’ to describe who did the actions to his body, which sometimes made the line of events difficult to follow. 

“Mm, wanna tell me about it?” Zeb had to work the information out of Alexsandr softly, slowly, otherwise he would crack. It’d happened once, the generals had brought in Alexsandr to be questioned on what had happened, and he simply fell apart. It had taken a week for Zeb to get him to sleep then. 

Contemplating the words, Alexsandr’s eyes seemed avoidant of Zeb’s. “I...Yes. I do, but...I do not know where to start.” 

“What’s got you scared the most?” 

That was a loaded question, one that made Alexsandr think for a moment. Locked in this warm embrace, he actually felt safe to discuss these things. “I keep thinking of Onderon...I thought...well, that what was happening was  _ right.  _ But all the death, the destruction. Zeb...what is this war for?” 

“I think ya’ already know, it’s for justice against the Empire.”  _ It’s for people like me,  _ Zeb thought. “The fight is hard, long, but eventually we’ll win and when we do…” He softly ran a claw through the man’s hair, smiling. “There’s no one I’d rather by my side.” 

Alexsandr chuckled, softly pressed a hand against Zeb’s chest. “Garazeb, if I did not know better I’d assume you are flirting with me.” Shifted, he used Zeb’s arm as a pillow and truly became comfortable. 

_ I am, you’re just too blinded by that kriffing Imperial self denial to see it yet. I will never stop loving you, even if I have to yell it at you everyday for the rest of my life.  _ “Heh, get some rest, that’s the tiredness talkin.” 

After he was sure Kallus had slipped into blissful rest, Zeb followed soon behind. 

\---------------

Data collection and assortment was not an emotionally driven job, which is what made it perfect for Kallus. Most days he could simply hide away in his work, ignoring any emotions that bubbled inside him when the Spectres took off on new missions. Imperial chatter had become more focused, occasionally mentioning something named  _ Stardust.  _ There was no additional information on the word, which at first Kallus had supposed maybe some sort of Outer-Rim cosmic phenomenon. But the more it was mentioned, the more his assumptions moved to code. Whatever it was equalled an enormous endeavor. 

However, there was no time to keep track of every interesting new code word or phrase. For all the codebreakers could tell, it might as well be slang. Besides, there were more pressing issues at hand. With the spectors out on a mission, there was a rare moment of true focus for Kallus. Zeb wasn’t here to distract him from his work, and the two younger crew weren’t harassing him.  _ Look at them, all of these people fighting for what they believe to be right. Why am I here?  _ Guilt clouded his conscience, did he even deserve to be with these brave soldiers? 

“Captain Kallus?” A meek voice spoke from behind the man, almost like it’s owner did not want to be heard. 

“Yes?” Craning to look at the voice’s owner, he found himself face to face with a younger looking Twi’lek woman. Her age was unclear to him, but she could not have been much older than Ezra was.  _ Why is there a child in my information headquarters?  _ “Is there something you need?” 

“I was told to deliver these data tapes to you, sir.” The cargo in her hands, three data-tapes that seemed pre-Imperial, were set with care upon his desk. “I...I am sorry for bothering you, sir.” She ducked away, not waiting for him to say much else to her. 

_ What an odd child.  _ Alexsandr felt bitter about the intrusion, after all any moment away from his work was time he’d be wasting Rebel resources. Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he turned back around to look over the delivered tapes.  _ They must know these tapes will be near impossible to analyze, are they simply giving me impossible tasks?  _ Returning back to his work, he reached for one of the tapes. The once flexible material felt brittle and stiff.  _ I hope this thing can still be read, if not this trio is a lost cause.  _ Carefully inserting the tape inside of the data reader, hoping at least something could be gained. 

Oddly, Kallus had been wrong about these data-tapes being a completely lost cause. Long rows of coordinates, arranged in an order he was not familiar, were being read off. Not wanting to lose the information, he noted down the numbers both physically and on his datapad. His colleagues had made fun of him consistently for being so thorough about documentation, but all information was going to be valuable at some point and it was not about to be Alexsandr’s fault for losing an asset. 

The other data-tapes followed the same pattern, spouting numbers that seemingly held no meaning on their own.  _ Why would such information be stored without a key,  _ he pondered. Pulling his hair back, Alexsandr searched through previously used Imperial spy codes.  _ Perhaps I have stumbled on an early Imperial encryption?  _ He tried one set of keys, and then another more modern version, neither of which made any sense out of the assortment of dashes and numbers. The ex-Imperial tried for hours to determine what the numbers meant, till he was only working under lamp light.  _ Give me a clue, you stubborn pieces of gar- _ -

His thoughts came to a screening halt when he heard the door behind him slide open, “Yes?” Frustration was beginning to turn into anger, when Alexsandr kept himself from eating this long it always made tensions high. 

“Ya’ whenever people leave a room, it’s kinda a cue for you to go?” Zeb’s voice sounded worn, tired, yet Alexsandr could hear the smile in his words. He thought Kallus looked beautiful like that, hunched over his desk with his hair fluffed from being tugged at all day. Kallus looked relaxed. “I’m surprised ya’ haven’t passed out.” 

“Garazeb.” Kallus looked at the lasat with surprise. “I was under the impression your mission would last another day, what made you return early?”  _ Why did he have to return when I look so ridiculous. He is going to pull me from my work, and I know it.  _ Narrowing his eyes, he examined the imposing figure.  _ Laser burners on his arms, rips and scratches on his battle suit.  _ “What went wrong, hm? Was this not supposed to be a covert operation?” The space between them closed as the human’s hands reached out to survey the wounds. “Why have you not been to the medical droids yet? Are you  _ trying _ for these wounds to become infected?”  _ This kriffing idiot,  _ shaking his head and he seemed almost disappointed. “If you have not bled out yet, I assume you will be fine, but you need to be patched up before it forms scars.”  _ Though, he would look attractive with new scars.  _

“Aw, don’t be so worried Kal.” He smirked, watching as the human searched for a medkit. Zeb leaned back against one of the desks, letting Alexsandr apply bacta strips to his burns. 

“I  _ will _ stop helping you.” Kallus glared, yet kept his body language light and open. Carefully disinfecting the biggest wound, a blaster strike on Zeb’s right forearm, Alexsandr couldn’t help but mumble. “One day I will be attempting to clean off your corpse if you act so recklessly, Garazeb.”  _ Why do you act like you want to die? Why won’t you be careful for me?  _

“Ya’know, you used to want that.” The words were immediately regretted the second they left his lips, by the way the ex-Imperial stiffened it was abundantly clear that was a sore topic. “Kal, I didn’t mea-” 

“No, you say exactly what you mean. I know that at least to be true, Garazeb.” Biting onto his lip, Alexsandr attempted to hold back an scornful expression. Self loathing often came paired with the guilt of his past actions.  _ He still sees me as that agent who slaughtered his people, doesn’t he? Nothing has changed at all besides who is tending to who.  _

Oppressive silence hung over the pair as Alexsandr finished dressing the arm wounds, and finally leaned back. Neither wanted to be the first to speak, what was there to say anyway? Emotions still ran high, and the past was still fresh in their minds. Lasan had been a mistake Alexsandr could never seem to outrun, fate had brought him there to be a murderer. Sure, he’d killed before; but never like that. 

_ I wish I could change the past for you, Zeb. I wish I could show you just how much I have changed, what I have learned. Please, give me an opportunity.  _ Swallowing down his pride, Alexsandr did speak. His past would continue to haunt him so long as he ignored it like an affair of embarrassment. “You...are correct, at one point I was that man.” He turned over one of Zeb’s wrists, lowering his eyes to examine the deep scratches before applying the much needed bacta patches. 

“And?” Zeb assumed the man wanted to say more with the way his voice had lowered. 

“And...I am no longer him, I am no longer the agent who…”  _ Who destroyed Lasan.  _ Allowing himself to tear up, and begin to cry, Alexsandr soft grabbed Zebs right hand. “I know...I...I have years to atone for, you may never forgive me but...I’d like…”  _ Just say it, say it. Say it Kallus, speak.  _ The words were hung inside his mouth, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks. His overwhelming guilt mixed with awe when he felt a soft, pelted knuckle against his cheek whipping away his tears. 

“You’d like to show me?” Zeb’s voice was serious, yet soft. Carefully, he dried the tears from Kallus’s eyes and pulled the human into a loving embrace. “Ya’ have plenty of time to show me, ok?” The hold lasted till the human had left a tear soaked spot in his fur, after which he let him pull away. 

Comfortably, Alexsandr slipped his hands inside the other’s. It felt as though they had been custom made for eachother, fitting snugly together.  _ It is now or never, he is right here. Tell him how you feel, Alexsandr. Speak, do something.  _ “I...don’t know how to respond…” 

“I’m thinkin’ I do.” Zeb carefully pulled the human in, letting him rest against his chest for a moment. He watched the other’s eyes wide, felt the thumping of his own heart in his chest. “Kal, I need you, I can’t keep pretending everythin’ is normal.” 

The human’s eyes widened, his head nodding briefly. “You need me...as a companion?” The point seemed to be hitting a brick wall, Alexsandr could take no hints on this.  _ What is he talking about? Why should he need me, I am right here?  _

“Ah, Karabast.” Finally, the lasat found the courage to pull him in for a kiss. They separated seconds later, before mutually leaning back in for more. Time was irrelevant. It didn’t matter, they were together at last. Silently, he promised to protect the man.  __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You.
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	9. Imperial Gaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grand Moff Tarkin questions Alexsandr's escape.

“Grand Moff Tarkin, Sir, You wished to speak to me?” A Stormtrooper in standard armor stood at the opposite end of the bridge, attempting to hide the fact that he was trembling. If the Grand Moff called on you personally, either you were about to be executed or promoted. The man’s back was stiff at attention, attempting to show the man all the respect he deserved. 

“Yes, LE-087. I have questions as to the missing prisoner who was supposed to be arriving here from Coruscant.” Facing away from the trooper, his hands folded behind him. “Tell me, why is he not here now?” The Grand Moff’s voice was edged with cold professionalism, showing this was not a casual conversation. 

“Sir, Rebels gained access to the prisoner. We were unable to capture them.” Details be damned, the trooper was not about to say that he’d led the Kallus’s rescue team without knowing. “They escaped in a small transport ship.” 

“And how do you suppose they did that?” Dryily, his voice hinted at sarcasm. Finally turning to fact the trooper, his eyes narrowed into what seemed like sharped points.  _ He is hiding something, and is nearly ready to give it up.  _ Though not the most imposing of silhouettes, Tarkin held his own. Hiding from the Grand Moff while inside his ranks was impossible, and only the best were accepted on board the  _ Executrix.  _

“Sir…” Silent, the trooper could not reply. Before getting the chance to speak more, there was a tug on his throat. It felt as though an invisible noose was being pulled tighter and tighter as his feet left the ground. Behind him, heavy mechanical breathing sounded like the bells of a cathedral, signaling his death. 

“Lord Vader, have you any news on our escapee?” Tarkin watched the sith lord choke, the eventually crush, the trooper who he had been questioning.  _ What a shame, I could have used him a bit longer _ , he thought. 

“No.” The Lord’s voice was heavy, dark, the voice of a murderous beast. “There is news of who he escaped with, however, a lasat and two Jedi. I previously faced them.”  _ I will not fail again.  _

“Must be quite powerful then.” Tarkin’s words edged on amusement, for all of Vader’s ignorance he had still not learned pride could easily be destroyed by the enemy’s wits. “No matter, we will find this traitor; Ex-ISB 021 and learn what he knows of the Geonosis building site.”  _ Then, we will destroy him. Him and all of the rebellion that he follows.  _ “Have our best on tracking that ship,  _ The Ghost, _ I will tell you when to act. A squadron of Shadow Troopers from the ISB will be at your disposal.” 

“Very well.” The Sith lord walked out of the bridge, watching the Storm Troopers who intentionally stepped out of his way. His heavy footstep could be heard till he left the bridge floor, then there was only the distant sound of his labored breathing to remind Tarkin of who he served. 

Tarkin took a moment of leisure to view the construction of his project, the Death Star. Despite only being bones, the power the symbol and eventual weapon held should be enough to make the galaxy tremble beneath the feet of the Galactic Empire.  _ Where are you, ex-agent? Where have you decided to hide? And, more importantly, what did you see?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you so much for reading! I know this was a shorter chapter, but more is on the way shortly as soon as I get out of finals season. 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You.
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	10. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kallus and Zeb explore an old Republic base, and Kallus finds that the locations awakens old senses.

Since that fateful night, Alexsandr felt at ease around Zeb. No longer did he worry about bumping into him in the halls, instead he found himself actively relieved whenever he saw the lasat if only from a distance. Work never stopped on the rebel base, as Alexsandr had discovered, but there were quiet moments. Meals shared with each other, trips out into the jungle whenever a returning ship lost control, and late night conversations over Imperial chatter. Most times, their relationship was a compromise unspoken. Alexsandr got to work as much as he wanted, and Zeb kept him safe by running missions on  _ The Ghost _ ; along with keeping security. 

As the days passed, it became easier to be around the other members of the cause as well. Occasionally dirty glances would be thrown Alexsandr’s way, but deep down he knew they’d been justified. However, tensions were not all calmed. Alexsandr was well aware that some here would rather see him dead, it was unavoidable with his background. He accepted the fact that he may never be a hero, but being here gave him more personal peace than he’d ever had with The Empire. His body began to adapt to the change as well, no longer were his muscles stringy from the improper rationing provided by The Empire, here he was eating fruits and vegetables he did not even know the names to. He began to bulk up, not slim down, making him feel more confident and self assured. Alexsandr couldn’t be certain, but he’d hypothesized that his visible progress was making Zeb feel better as well; they’d actually begun to spar and treat each other as equal combatants. After his long stay in the medbay, it was refreshing to feel powerful. 

“Kal!” Zeb yelled Kallus’s name from across the airfield, hurrying over to the man who had been assigned to help reorganize the supply manifest with AP-5 that morning. “Hey, I was wondering where you were.” Leaning against one of the storage containers, Zeb offered the human a slight playful smile. “Me’n Chopper got assigned to a fuel run, and you know how much I hate the droid. Do you want to come?” 

With a halfway amused scoff Alexsandr rolled his eyes, placing a hand on his hip before actually looking at the lasat. “And abandon my post? Do you  _ want _ me to get reprimanded?” The fact he was being asked this question did bring slight ease, at least Zeb was beginning to trust him to have his back. “Ask Mon Mothma, or one of her assistants.” 

“Come on, they won’t even notice.” Zeb leaned forward slightly, whispering. “And if they do, we can just say I needed ya’ for mission information.” Pulling back with a half smirk, and crossing his arms, it seemed like he had rested his case. 

Sighing, Kallus mulled over the idea. Yes, it was true that AP-5 could easily finish this job on his behalf, and that the work wouldn’t just be abandoned. These busy tasks could be finished by anyone with half a brain cell. But, if he left would it sabotage all the trust he’d built on the base? Being a rebel gave him more mobility than being inside The Empire with all it’s protocol, sure, but should he abuse that freedom? “Are you sure it won’t take long? I wouldn’t want to be missed here, Zeb.” 

“It’ll be an hour, tops.” Zeb was hopeful, a chance to get Kallus off this planet and back into action would help build the human’s confidence again. “Come on, let’s go.” Walking carefully off, Zeb made sure he was slow enough to give the man time to think it over but also make it seem urgent. He hoped that Kallus would want to join him. 

Sighing and rubbing his temples for a moment, Alexsandr handed off his data-pad to AP-5. “Looks like I’ll be gone for a moment.” Not giving the droid time to complain, Alexsandr jogged to catch up with Zeb. “Fine, I’ll come with you.” If he got to spend time with Zeb, then he was willing to get a mark when they came back. Besides, something interesting might happen and who’d want to miss that? 

Zeb had to smile, there was a part of him deeply relieved that Kallus was joining. “Come on, we gotta be quick.” 

They climbed onto the  _ Phantom,  _ the ship that was commonly used for fuel runs of this size. It had been adapted to hold large portions of fuel, a modification that had caused Kallus’s skin to crawl when he learned it. “I cannot tell you just how much I hate this ticking time bomb of a shuttle.” He hadn’t exactly said it loudly, watching Zeb program their path into the Navi-computer. 

“Is there anything ya’  _ do  _ like?” Zeb had swung around, motioning with his hand and letting the human see his vague yet playful annoyance. 

“I...I like Chopper. That’s something.” Folding his arms across his chest, the Astro-mech beside him beeped happily and spat out a slew of phrases it was better Kallus didn’t repeat. “Perhaps I am the  _ only  _ one who likes you, droid.” That earned various complaints, which Kallus just laughed off. 

“If ya’ two are done, I’ll tell you about the mission when we jump.” Zeb tried to sound annoyed, yet a pleasant smile on his lips told a different story. The  _ Phantom  _ shook as she lift off the air-field, and smoothly entered the atmosphere where she took off into the hyperspace path programmed. Zeb spun around the captain’s chair, speaking. “Should be a fairly simple run, Kal I’ll just need you for clearance codes and such.”

“You’re...actually going in the  _ legal _ way?” Kallus folded his arms over his chest, his face molding into a scowl. Zeb wasn’t one to use clearance codes or to try stealthy operations. This was something different, something more intense. “Zeb, don’t take this the wrong way but...this is not usual for you. What are we actually doing?” 

The lasat sighed, almost as if he were disappointed that Kallus had figured him out so quickly. “You’re kriffing good…” He huffed for a second, then he spoke. “Don’t freak out, because you’re the only one who can do this, but remember those weird data-tapes?” 

“Yes?” Kallus raised an eyebrow, his face twisting into fearful curiosity. He was beginning to realize that this was going to be a longer experience than just an hour like promised. 

“Well, one of em’ was familiar. One of the points, I mean, Rex showed us months ago this list of old Republic bases and hide outs. I...I think one of those points was on there.” Zeb seemed legitimately nervous, almost like he expected Kallus to be upset with him. 

“Does...anyone know where we are going?” This was beginning to make the human frustrated, yet curious all at the same time. An old Republic station of any kind could prove to be a worthy exploration. 

“Rex, and Chop.” Zeb gave him a straightforward answer, figuring that any other sort of answers would just make the human more upset than he might already be. “Kal...I think this might be good, I mean you’ll get some answers on that weird code?” 

“Yes, you very well could be right.” He nodded, bringing up his hand to rest his chin deep in thought. The ship alerted them that their destination was approaching, and Kallus worked his way to the view port. In front of them was a small asteroid field, nothing extraordinary, with what seemed to be a base on the largest of the asteroids. On the sight, Kallus felt a strange humming deep in his chest. It happened every time he was going into the unknown, like a warning song of possible risk. “We better get down there.” 

As the  _ Phantom  _ moved to land, Zeb could see Kallus appearing visibly uncomfortable. “You’ve been here before?” The ship shifted, attaching to the asteroid. Zeb picked up a pressurized helmet, handing one to Kallus as well. 

“No, yet...I feel a strange sense of fear here.” He donned the helmet, heading out onto the surface with his partner. Walking in low gravity always felt like an odd reversal of swimming. Yet, with time they did make it to the structure. Scattered around the entrance were broken down Republic era walkers, and a few containers seemingly devoid of contents. The two made their way carefully inside, entering a hallway where large windows let in external light. For a base, it was oddly beautiful. The peace, and silence, lasted only a moment. Down the hall came a voice. 

“This is…” It cut out, only returning with, “...order and the Republic have...”

“Who’s there!” Kallus quickly drew his blaster, hearing Zeb behind him do the same with his bo-rifle. “It sounded like it came from further in, come on.” Kallus led the charge, walking with his weapon drawn further inside the building. 

“I don’t like this one bit, Kal.” Chopper rumbled in agreement, the two following closely behind him. Positions of leadership were natural for them both, yet in positions like this it was usually Kallus who took the leap. 

At the end of the hall they found themselves in what seemed to be an older command center, yet the sense of grief that washed over Kallus upon entering nearly made him pass out. He’d felt his sensitivity before, with the death of his crew. It always felt like the universe itself was contributing to his grief. “Something...happened here.” He managed to mutter out. 

“Yeah, somethin’ big.” In a semi-circle surrounding the main command communications, were the armor and skeletons of clone troopers. The vacuum of space had kept them as they had died. However, they were not the main attraction. Laying out like an offering on the main communications, was a robed skeletal figure. In it’s fingers was what seemed to be an old communication device, which was the source of the sound.

“ _ This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret…”  _ Once again, like before, the message cut out before the information could be fully transmitted. 

“Zeb, look.” Kallus carefully stepped over the armored bodies of the clones, picking up the Jedi’s fallen weapon. He looked over the lightsaber, a silver hilt with a wide base and finely formed top. It felt natural in his hand, although he’d never held a saber like this before. 

“Whoa, We should take that back to Kanan.” Zeb felt himself in shock at how natural that looked for Kallus. “Come on, I think we’ve been here long enough. It’s givin’ me the creeps.” 

_ As the crew loaded back onto their ship, the interest in what had just happened and their discovery of a lost lightsaber made them too distracted to notice the small probe droid. It hid behind the bodies of the clone troopers, watching them as they left, and taking pictures of the weapon along with it’s new holder.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	11. Imperial Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ISB Colonel Yularen thinks back to his time with Alexsandr Kallus in order to better track down their traitor, but emotions cloud judgments.

_ HoloNotes, Owner Wullf Yularen (dated 15th day, 14th year since rise of Empire): Interview with future I.S.B agent Alexsandr Kallus, promising cadet. Intelligent in strategy, pattern identification, and other such battlefield mechanisms. Easily swayed, and highly emotional. If he is to be placed inside I.S.B, emotional restriction training is advised. Transfer to I.S.B Youth training was issued immediately post interview.  _

Yularen had known, all those years ago, that there was something unique about Alexsandr Kallus. At the time he had simply brushed it aside, supposing that it was the young man’s desire for action and adventure which had seemed so familiar. After all, serving under Anakin Skywalker in the Clone Wars had given him plenty of experience with young fools who rushed headstrong into battle. Reviewing his notes from their first encounter, it seemed to be simply that. Nothing had been exceptional about Kallus. He was easy to encourage with propaganda, and not quick to question orders, yet scored higher in strategic analysis than most Imperial cadets. Certain questions about loyalty and family had prompted emotional responses, but nothing that should be questioned of a teenager. Yet, it did not feel so simple. Kallus had survived so many unsurvivable events, Yularen simply had to believe the boy had some sort of force-given luck. 

After all those years of working in such close contact with Alexandr, Yularen blamed himself for not seeing the defection coming. After Bahryn, had they given the man proper medical aid and accessed his mental state, this would not be happening. He would not be hunting down one of his best students, he would not be staring at a holo-image of his best student holding... _ could that be? _

“He has a lightsaber?” With a flicker of hesitation, Yularen glanced at the man standing to his right also examining the image. Thrawn, with his two Dark Troopers, seemed to view this as a personal mission. He had no clue how the alien had managed to get into this case, yet he had. It was of no use to question Thrawn’s involvement, however. He was one of the best, and they would need the best on retrieving or destroying Alexsandr. 

“The real question; is he a force user?” Thrawn’s cool tone was clearly born out of his mind working through the image, his eyes narrowing and head tilting to the right. 

Yularen was unsure if the question was directed at himself or if Thrawn was instead speaking his thoughts into existence. “During his time under my administration, the traitor showed no signs of force sensitivity.” Yet, even speaking those words seemed wrong. They felt like a lump in Yularen’s throat, a sickening gagging.  _ Alexsandr, why have you done this?  _ Certainly there was something he must have missed, something contained within Alexsandr’s file. Maybe in his childhood, a small piece of information tucked away in the past. If Alexsandr truly was force sensitive, then he was a dead man walking. 

“Yet, he seems to have hidden thoughts of betrayal long enough.” Thrawn’s tone shifted just barely, turning chilling and cold. “There is no doubt in your ability, Colonel Yularen, yet judgement should not be clouded in past relationships. We must examine every piece of evidence brought before us if we are to bring this traitor to justice.”

“Yes, of course.” Taking a settling breath, his eyes focused back on the image. The same scramble of anger and betrayal that had filled Yularen at Order 66 was present now, rising in his chest like a rolling tide. Alexsandr had always been one of his closest students, one of the best that he’d personally oversaw. Yularen had witnessed the Kallus’s injuries after his first squadron were murdered, seeing the cuts reach down and tear away any remaining innocence. Distantly, he wondered if he should have forced Alexsandr to step down after that incident, even though it was his first personal mission. At least then his best student, his  _ favorite  _ student, wouldn’t be an enemy of the state. Yet, there was nothing to be done. There was no way to give mercy now. “We should send probe droids throughout that section of the outer rim, they may return at some point.” 

“That very well maybe, we shall take surveillance as our first course of action.” Thrawn stepped aside, carefully documenting their discussion on his data-pad. Yularen was well aware that Thrawn would be a thorn in his side, constantly documenting and changing strategies. 

_ Alexsandr, for your sake, you better hope the rebels know how to hide.  _ With that thought in mind, Yularen stepped out into the hallway with Thrawn at his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> This is a shorter chapter again, but I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Follow Me!   
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	12. Mysterious Humming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr is led into the forest on Yavin Four by a mysterious humming, and Kanan questions him on his long-hidden sensitivities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it’s important to note, I have changed Kallus’s age from canon. He is 24, approaching 25 in this fic currently.

_ “Alexsandr? Sweetie?” Kallus’s mother had been a kind woman, innocent and naive, yet well meaning. She had married for protection, seeking out comfort in domestic life. The clicking of her flats against the metal staircase had been a common, comforting sound throughout his childhood. “I brought you a snac-“  _

_ This memory, this dream, was over the first time Alexsandr had used his ‘gift’. He was no older than three, yet the fear in his mother’s eyes at the sight of one of his toy robots suspended in the air by the force was edged into his memory. She’d screamed at him, told him how ashamed she was to have birthed a monster, and told him to shut whatever he was feeling tightly away. “No one is to ever know about this”, she said.  _

With a slight groan, Alexsandr’s eyes fluttered open. It had been a day since they returned with the fallen Jedi’s lightsaber, yet he couldn’t quite build up the courage to confront Kanan on what it meant. After all, he’d been drawn to that place. He’d carefully tucked away the weapon, not even allowing Zeb to know that it remained in their shared cabin. Perhaps it was lingering paranoia from his Imperial days, but he felt like that was one secret he could afford to keep. The early morning humidity had taken weeks to fully get adjusted to, but even then Alexsandr would find himself sweat slicked every morning. A sound, similar to a humming, had woken him up. 

Yavin Four was a  _ unique  _ planet to say the least, the heat being the least tolerable of the effects. Though, Alexsandr had never verbally complained about any of these thoughts. Not even when the scorching sun gave him blisters on the back of his neck, giving him a cold chill for the rest of the week.  _ I have no right to complain,  _ he thought as he walked down the loading platform of the  _ Ghost _ . 

The sound only grew louder as he walked onto the air field, his eyes glancing up at the parked ships that surrounded the crew’s normally airborne home. Normally, the sounds of machinery were welcomed as white noise for Alexsandr. Yet...this low, vibrant humming was like nothing he’d heard before. Checking back briefly to ensure he hadn’t been followed by Zeb, or either of the sleeping Jedi, Kallus moved towards the sound. 

The quest led him to the edge of the densely crowded forest, a path which he had never traveled on his own. The low humming had transformed itself into soft ringing, low yet alive and pulsing deep in Alexsandr’s chest. “What...are  _ you? _ ” He found himself questioning his own senses, had he finally been knocked hard enough in the head? No, that couldn’t be it. Hesitating for only another moment, Alexsandr began his trek into the brush. 

_ This is a bad idea,  _ Alexsandr thought. He’d had plenty of bad ideas before, such as dating a rather short tempered death trooper, or following the orders placed down on Lasan. Yet, this seemed like the easiest idea  _ not  _ to follow. He just needed to turn back around. That didn’t seem like an option, however. The singing was leading him towards a clearing, the early morning sun shining down into the center. 

“How long have you known?” A mature voice, Kanan’s, broke the natural silence. In the center of the clearing the blind man stood, holding Kallus’s newly acquired saber. 

“Known?” Kallus quickly whipped himself around to face him, unknowingly taking a defensive position.  _ He found it. Somehow, he found it.  _ Alexsandr quickly realized that it was the sword itself, not any surrounding item or natural response, making the loud humming. Fear dug deep, his legs tightening and his pulse thumping harshly in his throat. 

“Your force sensitivity, how long have you known about it?” Kanan tossed the lightsaber across the clearing, seemingly aware that Alexsandr would catch it. “You’re...scared, aren’t you?” His body language shifted slightly, his head tilting in curiosity. 

“I am  _ not  _ force sensitive.”  _ I am not like you,  _ he mentally added. Catching the saber, he delicately held it to his chest as though it might be lost again. As soon as the chilled steel touched his fingers, the singing died down into the same hum he’d noticed at the asteroid base. 

“You managed to find the sword without knowing it was missing, it calls to you doesn’t it?” The Jedi’s arms crossed, his feet carefully placed as he began to circle the other. “Your sensitivity, you’ve had to hide it well to stay hidden this long.” 

“Unlike you, I do not have the  _ luxury  _ of understanding such things. There were people to protect...had the Empire known, do you understand the hell that would’ve been brought down on my family? Even your precious order would’ve made my family’s life a disaster had they known.” Alexsandr’s words held anger, years of pent up tension finally boiling over into a conversation. 

“Hm. I don’t think you’re wrong, far from it, yet you could have been trained. You were a youngling—“ Kanan’s voice was cut off when Alexsandr raised his voice, an odd crack happening on the first syllable. It sounded like the ex-agent might cry. 

“I…” Composing himself again, he spoke. “I was nine at the time of the power transfer, I would have simply been cast aside. Just as I assume you were, Jarrus.”  _ At least under the Empire we were safe, even briefly. Why am I telling him this?  _

The Jedi didn’t respond immediately, rather he seemed to be examining Alexsandr as he circled. Kallus could only assume that was one of the perks that came with being so force aware. “We had heard of an agent being trained by Yularen himself, but I didn’t expect you to be so  _ young _ .” 

“Are you just going to interrogate me?” Alexsandr found himself snapping at the Jedi, insulted that he might be too young for the rank he once held.  _ I was trained by Yularen longer than you were a padawan, Jarrus. Do not test me.  _

“Depends, are you going to keep being defensive?” They were at a standstill, with Kanan not stopping his questioning while Alexsandr was not willing to give him anything to dig into his emotions. “How young were you at Onderon, at Lasan?” 

“Stop.” Alexsandr took a deep, settling breath. Yularen had sent him too young to those places, only being seventeen at the time of Onderon and twenty at Lasan. He could almost hear Yularen, hear his voice saying; ‘I have taught you everything you need _ ’.  _ No he hadn’t, he hadn’t taught Alexsandr how to move on. He hadn’t taught Alexsandr anything outside of how to do what the Empire desired. He was barely approaching his twenty-fifth birthday, yet he had the wounds of the old clone. 

“How long did they ignore your leg? We all see that limp, we all see how they let you cripple yourself.” Kanan’s words dug, reaching deep inside of the man’s chest. “No one cared if we found you on that moon or not, you were lef-“

“ _ Shut the kriff up! _ ” Alexsandr’s rage boiled over, releasing all at once in a shove forward of his hand. He had forced the Jedi backwards, yet not off his feet. His hand, chest, and mind felt as though electricity had suddenly channeled through faster and harsher than ever before. Hot, thick blood began to drip from his nose. His body suddenly exhausted. 

Kanan quickly regained his footing, a soft pleased smile tugging at his lips. “You  _ are  _ force sensitive.” He sounded as though he had confirmed a long standing theory of his own. Moving forward, he placed a caring hand against the man’s shoulder. “You’ve closed off that gateway within yourself for a long time, so it will be exhausting to open it again.” 

It felt like the air had been squeezed out of Alexsandr’s lungs, his whole body screaming at the energy he had just exhausted.  _ He wanted me upset, he knew I would react. He didn’t want answers.  _ Alexsandr’s mind raced, yet he only spoke a few words as Kanan began to led him back to the  _ Ghost.  _ “Not a word to the others…”

“Don’t worry, Alexsandr. You can tell them yourself.” Kanan’s voice, for the first time, actually brought Kallus’s some comfort as the darkness closed in and awareness escaped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow Me!  
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	13. Fulcrum Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr makes a difficult decision.

_You put them at risk._

That tiny, nihilistic voice had been whispering in Kallus’s ear in the days and subsequent weeks after the release of his force sensitivity to Kanan. The Jedi hadn’t spoken to him, and none of the other _Ghost_ crew had questioned him so it seemed Kanan had kept his word. 

_You will lead inquisitors to this place, to their haven. You will be the downfall of the Rebellion. You don’t deserve to be near them._

Sighing, Alexsandr carefully shut off the communications equipment at his station. As always, he was the last one to leave. There was no Garazeb to tell him to sleep tonight, no. He’d pushed him away after the encounter with Kanan, considering himself much too dangerous. He’d ignored him, attempted to avoid him, barely acknowledged him. 

_You will be their doom, Alexsandr Kallus._

The voice mocked him, yet spoke in his own tone. Standing from his seat, he managed his way into the hall and down the long passages this old temple contained. His knee was acting up again, sending shocks of pain up his leg as he applied pressure. Perhaps the voice was right, he was too dangerous to be here. The resistance already had two Jedi, they didn’t need an unstable third force user. 

The air space was quiet tonight, only the roar of insects from the forested areas reaching his ears. The voice was right, no matter how much he’d wanted to deny it. His once high held position in the Empire made him a target, he was actively bringing danger towards the Rebellion...towards Garazeb. 

In the days after his exposure to Kanan he’d hyper focused on the coded data-tapes, and with Rex’s republic knowledge they’d uncovered two more locations. Both old Republic medical ships. 

“ _Don’t know what you want with those, but you should be able to break the code now, kid.”_ The clone had said. 

After Rex had helped him uncover the basic pattern, it didn’t take long to discover the rest. On a star map, he’d laid them out. They covered every corner of known space, even into the unknown regions. He’d locked himself away in his work, able to ignore what Kanan now knew. It was something to put his efforts towards once Imperial chatter lightened for the day, or when their signals held no new information. 

That knowledge, those locations, wouldn’t stop calling to him. It was the same sense of drive that had kept him going in his hunt for the _Ghost,_ now it was calling him to search out what exactly was so important about those places. When he and Zeb went to the first, they’d discovered a Jedi’s last stand. _There could be valuable resources at the other sites, or data for other bases in the future. It’s a reasonable endeavor, yet there isn’t man power to waste on such a mission._

Those thoughts, coupled with his fear of endangering the Rebellion, led Alexsandr to make two choices. The first was that he had to leave, he had to get far away. He had to go in order to protect these noble fighters; to protect Garazeb.

Two, he had to discover why these locations were listed together. What made them so important? It was a puzzle he couldn’t complete here on Yavin. 

First step was acquiring a ship, which would be difficult given the fact he’d never actually been allowed that privilege. Not that he could really blame the Rebellion’s leaders for not trusting him, in fact it was probably wise. He found an X-Wing parked to the side of the airfield which had been recently matenienced yet seemed unassigned. _Not exactly the most unsuspected craft in the galaxy, but I can’t be picky._ As carefully as he could, Alexsandr opened the cockpit and climbed inside. He’d carried his pack from the intelligence center, setting it between his legs. Unfolding the top flap, he accounted for the contents. _The lightsaber, check. Star map, check._ The rest he could gather along the way. 

Pulling out his holorecorder, Alessandr began to speak. “If you are seeing this now, then I am gone. Don’t think I am leaving the cause, because that is completely untrue. I have…” He sighed, _how much should I tell them? How much would Kanan say?_ Those thoughts made his face fall, his lips tightening with sadness and guilt. This was not something he wanted to do, he didn’t want to leave them behind. “...discovered something, I have certain sensitivities. Kanan knows, though I’d assume that man knows most things.” He lightly chuckled, his voice betraying his sadness. “I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be back. But keep the Fulcrum channels open. If I discover anything useful, I will send information through those.” Ending the recording, he carefully climbed out the cockpit and set it on a nearby cargo load. It’d be discovered by the workers in the morning, that much was certain. 

He hesitated to get back in, once he did there would be no more turning back. He’d be on his own, completely at the mercy of his own abilities. _This is for the best, this is for Garazeb._ If he could keep Zeb and the rest of the Rebellion safe by leaving, but discovering new information, then that’s what he had to do. It was his duty. 

Powering up, Alexsandr gave one last glimpse back at the _Ghost._ Would Kanan or Hera be awake by now, would they hear him take off? Who would be the first to tell Zeb? _You cannot become emotional._ Logic overran his emotions, and he pulled the X-Wing up into the sky above Yavin. His eyes threatening tears, he began to program his first jump into hyperspace. 

“I have work to do.” He whispered to himself before he was slung into that beautiful blue vortex. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! A little update, I won’t be able to write as much once the new semester starts here in a few days. My new update schedule will be every Friday. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow Me!  
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	14. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeb discovers his partner is missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Hello, Yes this chapter is early! I am posting this before I have to go back for my classes. Next chapter and the following chapters will all be posted on Fridays. Have fun reading!

“Kal?” Silence filled the cabin he and the human shared, usually Kallus would be up far before Zeb and would have settled into some early morning review in his bunk. As Zeb had discovered, Kallus ran mostly on structure. He seemingly thrived under an orderly schedule. “Hm..Ya’ up?” The quiet was unnerving, usually Kallus would reply with some sort of calculated yet snarky comment about how Zeb had slept in too long. Kallus’s smell usually filled the room, telling the lasat that he was right there and hadn’t left for another part of the base, yet this morning the scent was dull. Dread slowly sunk in, like water into his fur.  _ Kal isn’t here.  _ There wasn’t the sound of the human working on his datapad, or his mutterings as he worked. There was a deafening emptiness instead.

Opening his eyes, the room was blurry for a moment until he brought a hand up to clean the sleep from his eyes. Once the space came into focus, it genuinely seemed like Zeb had been alone for some time. Kallus’s bed had the sheets nicely folded, just as it had been the night prior, and his belongings still sat on the shelf built into the bedside. It felt as though the space was frozen in time, with the inhabitant just suddenly leaving. 

Zeb’s heart began to pound in his chest, panic and fear starting to brustle his fur on his neck. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, glancing around for any sign of where the human might be. “Kallus?”  _ He’s not here, why is he not here?  _ Zeb usually slept in his battle-suit, washing it and occasionally trading it out with some of Kallus’s jackets and shirts. He’d had pants custom-made in their time on Yavin four, so having more clothing options actually allowed Zeb to dress outside of his usual warrior attire. This morning, he didn’t take the time on something as meaningless as fashion. 

Leaving their shared space, Zeb wandered the hall for a moment. The rebel base was always busy, always had some sort of emergency going on. This morning, it seemed like there was something going on in the air-field. Distantly, Zeb could overhear mutterings and what seemed to be a deeply upset Wedge. The teen pilot was usually talkative or excited, but he genuinely seemed panicked and was expressing his panic to a very displeased Hera.  _ If I’m going to find answers, might as well start with Hera.  _ “What’s goin’ on?” 

“Captain Orrelios! Oh, I’m glad to see you.” Wedge’s voice was rife with panic, his face flushed and his eyes wide. Zeb could smell the distress on the boy, and hear the thumping of his heart even from a foot away. 

“Hey, kid. What’s goin’ on?” He tried to keep himself casual, but Wedge’s panic was making it difficult to think straight.  _ Don’t tell me something happened to him, don’t tell me Alexsandr is in trouble.  _

“Someone stole his X-wing last night, we’re trying to track down the culprit now.” Hera crossed her arms over her chest, her lips tightened down into a line. 

The world seemed to collapse down as the pieces connected, Alexsandr was truly gone.  _ He left, he stole Wedge’s X-wing and took off in the middle of the night. He didn’t even bother to tell me.  _ “Hera, can I talk to ya’ for a minute?” Zeb carefully guided Hera off to the side, away from the distraught young pilot. “Kallus is missing.” 

A harsh sigh left her lips, Hera’s head gently nodding to his words. “Did he tell you he was leaving?” She seemed to sense just how alarmed Zeb was, reaching out a hand to rest against his shoulder. 

“No, he hasn’t talked to me in days…”  _ He hates me, I don’t know why but he does.  _ “He was talkin’ to Rex the other day, I don’t know what about.” Zeb followed Hera as she began to walk back into the base, past the maintenance space where the smell of oil and machinery was overwhelming, and into the main control center. “Where’s that clone when ya’ need him?” 

“You two need me?” Rex had been talking with one of the generals, carefully moving out of the main private meeting room. “Whoa, Zeb, buddy. You look spooked.” The captain carefully glanced at Hera, then back at the lasat. Zeb thought the clone could read him like an open book sometimes, with this being one of them. 

“We need to talk about the last time you saw Kallus.” Hera’s voice was heavy, serious. 

“Oh, uh.” Rex scratched his beard in thought, as though he were pulling from the back of his mind. “Well, he wanted me to go over these old Republic star maps. Somehow he’d gotten these old scrambled base coordinates, and I helped decode some of them.” 

“Do ya’ remember where they led to?”  _ I can go after him, drag him back like the idiot he is and tell him how stupid he is for leaving. Yavin Four is safe, the Empire can’t get him here.  _ Zeb sighed, watching the clone to see if he could give any more information. 

“Yeah, the one I helped him led somewhere named, uh...Jedha. Yeah, Jedha. Some sort of old Jedi temple or something, from what I could pull up. Not a lot of use for the Clone war, so I don’t know a lot ‘bout it.” The old clone shrugged, speaking up again. “Why, did something happen?” 

Zeb looked to Hera for what he should say, unsure if he should really be sharing this information with the clone. “We’re...uh, lookin’ for him.” 

“Ah, he left didn’t he? General Skywalker used to do that all the time. I’m sure he’ll be back.” Rex gave them a smile, seemingly unalarmed by the fact the Kallus could be anywhere in the galaxy. The clone gave them a respectful smile before he moved on, giving a datapad to a rebel intelligence officer. It seemed like Zeb had caught him between tasks. 

_ Jedha, what could you want there Alex?  _ Zeb had no clue why Alexsandr would go there, but he knew that he’d follow his path as soon as he could. “Hera…” Zeb’s tone lingered, his body feeling restless. 

“Go to Jedha, maybe you’ll find him. If you do, slap some sense into him for me and get Wedge’s X-wing back.” Hera didn’t tell him not to go, and she seemingly knew he wouldn’t stop. “Bring that idiot home.” 

“Captain!” Wedge’s voice was heavy with his pants, the boy running full speed towards the two with a sort of recorder in his hands. “Maintenance found this.” Handing it over to Zeb, the boy watched as Kallus appeared and spoke…

“If you are seeing this now, then I am gone. Don’t think I am leaving the cause, because that is completely untrue. I have…”  _ What was that expression, fear? No, Kal wouldn’t be afraid. He looks sad.  _ “...discovered something, I have certain sensitivities. Kanan knows, though I’d assume that man knows most things.” 

“Wait, Hera. What’s that mean?”  _ Why would Kanan keep something secret from us?  _

Hera just shook her head, listening as the holo message continued. 

“I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be back. But keep the Fulcrum channels open. If I discover anything useful, I will send information through those.”

“Karabast…I’m going to Jedha.”  _ Someone has to save that idiot from himself.  _ There was nothing Hera could say to stop Zeb, not when he truly put his mind to a goal. And right now his goal was to drag Alexsandr back and tell him just how stupid of an idea it was to leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You. 
> 
> Follow Me!  
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	15. Hearts of Kyber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr finds his way into the Holy City and discovers more about his new weapon.

Coordinate Destination One: Jedha 

Alexsandr had carefully set down outside of the Holy city, moving his X-wing to a hidden rocky outcropping near the hip of one gigantic statue. This planet, Jedha, was one he’d never thought about visiting before. There was no reason to, such a planet would never direct Imperial attention. The population was much too small to fuel factories, and there was no natural resource Kallus was aware of that would draw the Empire to this place. So when he had made the trek towards the city, the presence of TIE fighters had been completely surprising and unwelcome.  _ This doesn’t seem like a full invasion, however I will need to stay on guard. They seem to be searching for something...or someone.  _ The thought made him shiver, but the sight of crowds gave him minor relief. He’d get in, find some sort of face covering, and find whatever had led him there. 

Luckily, the crowds inside the Holy City were massive. So many different faces, creatures, and groups would make it almost impossible to identify him. He could do as his Imperial training had taught, slide silently into the crowd. Being ex-ISB made him somewhat prepared for undercover operations, at least academically. From there, he could figure out the rest. He’d quickly managed to find a stall sealing a sort of cloth head and facial covering, giving the vendor what few credits he did have on him. Once on, his eyes and cheekbones were the only bit to show. Unless the Empire brought scanners, he’d never be spotted. 

The low, somewhat familiar hum of the lightsaber stopped him in his tracks. Surely people near him could hear it too, and it would draw attention.  _ This kriffing piece of junk, should have just left it there on that roc--  _

“You, with the weapon of kyber.” A voice spoke from the edge of the crowd, calm and purely collected. The tone melted effortlessly with the sounds surrounding Alexsandr, yet was not yelling. 

Turning away, back the way he came, Alexsandr heard the voice again.  _ Kriff, he’s onto me.  _

“The purest stars have hearts of kyber.” 

To his right, Alexsandr finally noticed the owner of this odd voice. He was a blind man, sitting with a larger seemingly stronger man over his shoulder. Alexsandr could only assume this man was some sort of monk, yet he had spotted him out of thousands. Carefully, Kallus approached the two men. The lightsaber in his bag began to sing louder, into a pure hum. 

“How...did you know about the weapon?” 

“Hmm, you know not what you have, then?” The blind man’s mouth tilted slightly in a smile, his hands shifting on his cane as if amused. “Kyber dwells within that sword.” 

_ He’s a Jedi, of course. That’s how he knew. The sword led me to another Jedi, maybe it wants me to give it away back to the people who made it.  _ Alexsandr’s lack of knowledge surrounding Jedi tradition was really an annoyance here, given more time around Yularen he should have pressed for answers. It certainly would be helpful now, in the face of this stranger. Pulling his bag from his shoulder, Alexsandr barely exposed the lightsaber. 

“Are...you Jedi?” Alexsandr kept his voice low, knowing just how dangerous of a question he was asking. It could get all three of them, the city, and the planet torn apart by the Empire’s probing hands. Still, it was the only thing he could think to ask. The force had always been a world only for the Jedi in Alexsandr’s eyes, now he was dropped in the middle of something he had no bearing on. 

The blind man chuckled, his sighted companion smirking slightly. They exchanged silent glances before the blind man looked back towards Alexsandr. “No.” 

Alexsandr’s heart sunk, his panic beginning to trickle where hope had been. It had been foolish to be hopeful, especially towards strangers. A soft, yet unstoppable gasp left his lips. 

“Chirrut.” The blind man’s companion seemed to scold him for a moment, nudging his shoulder with the back of his hand. Alexsandr couldn’t understand his tone, it held seriousness yet the playfulness of those within a very close relationship. 

“What?” The blind man looked back up, shaking his head for a moment before turning back to face Kallus. “No, no. Not here. Come.” The blind man stood, this man seemingly named Chirrut, and walked back into the alleyway which stood behind where they had been sitting. He paused, almost as if he could tell Alexsandr was hesitant. 

_ He’s not a Jedi, yet he can sense the saber. If we haven’t been swarmed by troopers then they must not be under suspicion… _

After a moment of consideration, Alexsandr finally did decide to follow them. It seemed that this city had storefronts on facing the center, with home fronts situated behind and snugly tucked away from the busy street. 

_ These buildings are multi-purpose, how interesting.  _

The two had ducked away into one of the entrances, which Kallus followed. To his surprise, they actually did enter a welcoming open floor planned house. A kitchen with hanging herbs to his right, a small sitting area to his left, and a curtain hiding what seemed to be the rest of the living space in the back. 

“Tea?” The blind man carefully guided him to sit on a cushion, seeming fully aware of the space he was in. His voice was so comforting, like a soothing doctor. Not that Alexsandr had encountered many of  _ those.  _

“No, thank you.” Kallus could feel the larger man’s eyes trained on him, silently threatening. Sitting down, Alexsandr kept his guard up. He didn’t want to push, but they had brought him here in order to talk. That much was clear. “So...the saber?” 

“Yes, more the kyber within.” Chirrut answered, carefully nodding at Baze for a second before speaking again. “We are all that remains of the Protectors of the Whills. We protected the kyber for generations” 

“So, you are Jedi?” This made no sense to Alexsandr, if they weren’t Jedi then how could they know of the force? Anyone that sensitive would have surely been found out, even in a place such as this. 

Chirrut answered only with a slight, knowing smile. A small sound, almost like an entertained one syllable chuckle escaped. 

“No.” His companion, who was still nameless, answered for him. “As much as the fool would like you to believe we are like the Jedi, we are not.” 

“Then..?” The question hung in the air like thick fog, Alexsandr did not feel afraid around these two yet the lack of answers was making him feel unsteady. “How can you sense this?” He carefully pulled out the lightsaber, setting it on the low table in front of them. 

“The heart of that sword, rather the  _ kyber.  _ It reaches out to all living things, those who are sensitive to the force can sense it when it is near.” Carefully, Chirrut set a hand on the hilt of the sword. He didn’t pick it up, rather he seemed to be listening to it or  _ feeling  _ it. “You have not had it long, it is still singing out.” 

Alexsandr wasn’t sure how much of this he believed, until recently the force was just something belonging to the Jedi and the Inquisitors. It was something to be feared. Now the thing he carried could be sensed by just anyone. “Well, it isn’t mine. If it is calling to you then…” 

“Do not suggest we keep it,” The larger stranger added, “...the force willed it to you.” 

_ Whatever, looks like I’m stuck with this stupid thing for now.  _ Alexsandr hated to admit it, but keeping the sword was actually a huge relief. “Fine, but this isn’t why I am here. I found these...these coordinates, the first set led me to the sword, and the second led me here to this city.” 

“Mhm.” Chirrut seemed to be listening closely, before he added. “The force sent you, then, despite your goal seeming unclear.” 

_ Kriff the kriffing force.  _ “Great.”  _ So I have no idea why I’m here, and the force gives me no guide?  _ “Well...I noticed TIEs on my way in.” He let that hang in the air, letting the two figure out his tone without clearly stating anything. That was until he added; “There’s no way to freely search as long as they are here. Why are they here, anyway? There is no natural material on Jedha.” 

“You are wrong. There is one, the kyber crystals. The Empire has been harvesting them for nearly a ten full rotations.” The larger man spoke once again, filling in detail his more mystic friend refused to give. 

“What could they possibly want with some crystals?” The question came more out of shock than actually lack of knowledge. The Empire would get their hands on anything they could, it didn’t mean they actually knew how to use it. It could very well be for decoration in the Core Worlds, or something more sinister, but Kallus had no prior information. 

Before they truly had time to respond, the ground around them shook with the thudding explosion of a grenade. The shouting started suddenly, the fight interrupting in the street outside the alley. The two men rushed up from their seats, yet did not seem to be panicked. This seemed to be something normal here, at least to some extent. 

Alexsandr glued himself to the street-height window, watching out as the two hurried away. Two stormtroopers fell, dying as a result of blaster shots. For once Alexsandr was glad he was on the right side, since the attack seemed to be one of surprise. Exiting the home, he kept his distance from the fighting, instead choosing to lean around buildings to catch glimpses of the action. 

It was over as nearly as it began, the dust cloud rising and making the littered street foggy. Alexsandr barely stepped out from his safety, surveying the damage, when a figure caught his eye across the plaza. 

Through the smoke it lumbered, carrying a large black bo-rifle. The patchy fur was nothing like how Garazeb had kept his, looking more like a ragtag terrorist than a well-kept honor guard. A few human Partisans milled around the creature, keeping his attention for the moment. Alexsandr tried to back away, never taking his eyes off the lasat straight from his nightmares. 

_ No, it can’t be.  _

Stepping over the bodies of stormtroopers, it stared straight at Alexsandr and spoke. 

“ _ For the cause, brother _ . We did good here today.” 

Alexsandr just froze, glad that he had been mistaken for a terrorist. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow Me!   
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	16. Yularen’s Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yularen learns of Thrawn’s plan to trap Alexsandr, and has a moral question proposed.

Yularen had poured all of his time, and effort, into studying his once gifted student. Alexsandr had never appeared to be a flight risk, he’d always been loyal. Scanning back over his old files, Yularen’s memory brought back old emotions. Alexsandr had been dragged into the academy young, gifted by his parents in exchange for higher social status. The old man could remember the first time he saw him, a little blonde headed child hiding behind the leg of an officer. He’d watched Alexsandr grow through the ranks, and become one of the finest. Till finally, Yularen offered him an apprenticeship. It was unofficial, yes, but Yularen could still visualize the pride in the thirteen year old boy’s eyes when he’d said that his training would now be ISB focused. 

Shaking the smile away, the old man carefully got up. His knees protested, disagreeing with the sudden change. He was not nearly as energized as he had been under the Republic. _Now is not the time for emotional interference._ It was hard not to become emotional over this student. He’d spent hundreds of hours training Alexsandr to be the best of the best, and now those were the very skills he was using to stay undetected. 

Across the room, the door slid open with a soft woosh. There stood the Grand Admiral, looking as smug and calculating as ever. Yularen, like most of the Empire, only pretended to fully respect Thrawn. “Grand Admiral Thrawn, I suspect you have come here for a reason and not purely for casual conversation?” 

“Yes, Colonel. You’d be right in that statement.” Thrawn moved forward, his hands placed solidly behind his back. “I believe I have decided on a strategy to lure out our traitor, however I need your _personal_ opinion on the effectiveness. Of course, due to the fact you know him best.” 

“Well, explain.” Yularen nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the Chiss with a raised eyebrow. 

“Our traitor is just old enough to know his family, and to have memory of them. Yet, I am right in assuming he has no knowledge of their transfer of custody to the Empire being voluntary?” 

_What is he implying?_ “Yes, you would be correct.” Yularen nodded, trying to piece together the logic the Chiss was insisting on. 

“He would come back to free them, then?” 

Yularen felt his heart stop for just a moment. He’d thought about some particularly cruel things in his lifetime, and followed through on a handful of them, but this...it meant using Alexsandr’s family to get him back into a life ending trap. It felt dishonorable. “Yes, I believe he would.” 

“Very well. We already have the full participation of the parent units.” Thrawn carefully turned, speaking one last sentence before he left for the hallway. “Colonel, do not let your emotions choke out our true goal.” Without letting the human respond, he walked out and the door slid back behind him. 

Yularen almost lost balance, his breathing spotty and soft. _This...isn’t right, you know this isn’t right. We should be catching him on the battlefield, or because of a mistake, not because he loves his family!_ What Yularen should do morally, and what his duties entailed were battling. It was only a matter of which won. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me, I know this is a shorter chapter but I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow Me!  
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	17. Trouble Brewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeb starts his search for Alexsandr, and Alexsandr assumes a new identity.

The touch down on Jedha had been one of the standard, albeit rocky, _Phantom_ specials. Zeb had convinced Rex to actually join him, which had taken a lot of bribery and the promise of Rex getting to tell his stories from the Clone Wars on the trip over. Most which Zeb had tuned out, letting the old clone ramble for as long as he had wanted. As soon as the ship slipped out of hyperspace, Zeb had let the clone guide them down onto the planet’s surface outside the Holy City. 

“Even from here the streets looked packed, how’re you planning on finding your boyfriend in all that mess?” Rex swung around the captain’s seat, turning to face Zeb with a slight smirk. 

“Kriff, He’s not my boyfriend! Ya’ and the others will never stop teasing me for bein’ close to someone, will ya’?” _Though, when I see him again I should ask if he wants to be more than just close. Maybe that’s a part of why he left?_ Zeb still tried to wrap his mind around why Alexsandr had left, he didn’t understand why just the fear of possibly hurting the rebellion was enough to get him to flee. A lot of things didn’t make sense to Zeb, things he would find the answer to as soon as he found that idiot. 

“Nah, not till you both stop making it so obvious.” Rex’s smile turned cocky as the old man stood, stretching out his back. “What’s the plan?” This time he asked without any distracting teasing. 

“Well, knowing Kal he’d blend in, which is a problem for us.” Zeb brought up a hand to scratch the back of his neck, this was going to be messy and difficult. Before, in all the times he’d managed to find Kallus it’d been because the human had been tracking him. Now, the roles were completely reversed. “And he’s gonna be blended in well, but if he came here because of that lightsaber then maybe the temple would be a good start?” Zeb hadn’t made reference to Kallus’s force sensitivity since he learned of it from Kanan, demanding the man tell him what had pushed Kallus away that night. A part of him still didn’t believe it. 

“I haven’t been inside a Jedi temple in a long, long time.” The clone spoke with fondness as they lowered the gangway, and exposed the interior of the Phantom to the dry yet dusty air. 

Both of them stepped out into the sun, and began the trek towards the actual city itself. 

The city itself was buzzing on edge, as if a battle had just taken place. The main plaza was littered with dead Stormtroopers, and destruction. Zeb wondered if there was a local resistance, and if they would aid them. Though, it seemed fair too optimistic to be realistic. “Well, someone had fun without us.” He muttered to Rex. 

“Definitely.” 

The chaos, and surrounding situation made it easy for the two to begin their search. Around them, vendors attempted to restore their broken goods, and the crowds began to return as the dead were dragged away. Zeb found it fascinating to see a city recover itself as they walked. Whatever had happened before they arrived was normal enough that the citizens were not afraid, merely concerned. 

The city itself was beautiful, ancient and populated by force-knows how many different types of people. It was the largest variety of religious expression Zeb had seen, the colors reminding him of the beautiful styles that once filled the streets of Lasan. A pang of longing bloomed in his chest, only eased by the reminder he had a goal. There was time to think about what he would say, and how he would say it, once he finally had Kallus safely in his arms. 

“Zeb.” Rex quietly nodded to a pair across the plaza, one a monk and the other seemingly a bodyguard. “Look at the smaller man’s hip.” The clone stared down the two, his eyes not staying specifically fixated on the two but instead the general area. 

Zeb did as instructed, curious as to why that was the object of Rex’s focus. His heart sunk, there on the man’s hip, was a silver tubular handle. It would have just indicated the man as a jedi, had it not been the one Zeb remembered Kallus oogling over. The black bends around the handle tilted by gold, and the fabric end, they were all too familiar. One thought stuck into Zeb’s mind; _He killed Kal for it._

There was a momentary pause, Zeb’s anger boiling over. Would Kallus have just given that up, allowed for a random stranger to have it? He shared a glance with Rex, communicating if they were really going to begin a fight without any information. As much as Zeb wanted to rush over, grab the monk by the neck, and question him on where he had gotten the lightsaber, that wasn’t what would lead them to Kallus. 

Rex placed a hand on Zeb’s shoulder, reassuring the lasat before he moved forward across the plaza. He was the more cool-headed of the two, so Zeb let him take the lead on this. Once the clone had gotten near the two, he spoke. 

“Been a long time since I’ve seen a Jedi.” 

“And you believe I am one?” The monk smiled, carefully adjusting his walking stick. 

“You’ve met one.” Rex motioned to the saber hilt the monk wasn’t making any particular effort to hide. 

“I am holding this for a friend.” The man tensed slightly, hiding the sword under his robes. 

_Alexsandr._ Zeb could swear that person had to be Alexsandr, “where did this friend go?” This was a chance to go after Kallus, a chance to find out where that idiot had gone. 

“Mm, why should he tell you?” The larger man squared his arms across his chest and settled in defensively. 

“Because that idiot is my boyfriend, and he’s currently traveling the galaxy with the Empire holding bloodlust against him, and I’d not like to get’em back in pieces.” Zeb spoke in a growl, masking the breaks in his voice from emotion. He missed Kallus, he worried about Kallus. 

The two exchanged glances before the monk carefully handed over the lightsaber to Rex, who tucked it quietly away. Ushering them closer, he began to speak. “He left with the Partisans, with someone who appears to be your kind. Go quickly, they are located outside the city in the statue ruins.” 

_Another lasat and one with Saw at that._ Zeb nodded, asking a final question. “Was he safe?” The worry, concern, and pure love Zeb held for Alexsandr slipped into his tone. 

“He’s alive, they didn’t take him against his will, that may change the longer you stay here.” 

\----------------------- 

Alexsandr shouldn’t have gone with these people, yet he had no other choice. The unnamed Lasat had ushered him into their transport, all of his protest leaving his body in fear the stranger would finish what he’d started all those years ago. For the first time, he truly wished that kriffing saber was at his side. He was sitting in a transport with a killer, one he couldn’t bear to make eye contact with. 

“You’re quiet, Bilto.” The lasat was oiling down his bo-rifle, taking this extra spare time to do maintenance on his weapon. 

_Oh force, he thinks I’m someone different. Play it cool Alexsandr. Kriff, how would terrorists talk?_

“Hm, Just wondering if we killed enough of them.” Alexsandr cringed, hating the words as they left his mouth. He wished he’d had enough credits to buy a voice modification device. 

“We’ll get plenty of chances, don’t worry.” The lasat chuckled, seeming amused by the faked enthusiasm. “I’m sure Saw will send us one more missions, everyday there's convoys like that. Just relax till then.” 

  
_Just relax, sure. It’s not like I’m sitting across from someone who would tear me to pieces if I took this head wrapping off._ As the transport pulled into the base of one giant statue he’d seen on his entry of the planet, Alexsandr wondered if anyone was searching for him...and just how long he could pull off this act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was delayed! 
> 
> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow Me!   
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	18. Endangered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr is led straight into a lion's den.

The arrival at Partisan headquarters had been the moment Alexsandr swore he would enter the force, his whole body shaking in fear. He’d tried to sneak away, but this lasat seemed to be attached to whoever Bilto had been, the other pulling him up a set of stairs inside.  _ All of these people want me dead, they want me dead.  _ Alexsandr had never been one for panic, yet he couldn’t help but feel completely trapped here. 

“We got a lot of kyber back this time round, look more lively.” 

The nameless monster nudged his shoulder and Kallus almost jumped out of his skin. His goal was to never let this, this beast touch him again. The first time around he’d almost been torn in two, left to bleed out in the middle of some force-forsaken field. He’d been a teenager, barely old enough to be sent on missions not to mention be in a position of leadership, watching as this massive destructive force checked for life left in his squadron. He could remember their names, their birthdays, their screams, oh force those screams they’d never leave him. They wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop yelling out, like bells singing on his death day. Breathing became a laboring task, his chest heaving and his hands shaking. There was blood everywhere, so much blood. 

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” The lasat stopped, placing a hand on his shoulder, “ya’ look like someone scared ya’ out of your wits.” 

“I...I’m fine.” Shaking himself back into focus, Alexsandr tried to convince himself this man was Zeb instead. It’d be easier to not be reminded that way, to instead focus on a way to get out of here alive. Once he’d seemingly convinced the lasat enough, they both began walking back inside the headquarters. He was studying every detail, every weapon laid out carelessly, every person with murderous eyes. These were terrorists, they were the people Alexsandr had dedicated his life to destroying. 

“Well, ya’ better be. Ya’ can’t be looking like a scared buckethead when Saw speaks, he’ll have ya’ sent to Bor Gullet” 

“Ah, sounds reasonable.” That sarcasm was a desperate attempt to mask the fear rising in his chest. Oh force, Alexsandr wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep his cool in a room with Saw Gerrera. That man had issued the deaths of his first squad, some of his best friends. He’d immediately want to kill that man, he’d want him gone and dead. He’d want the galaxy safe from such an unknown and unpredictable threat. He’d studied Saw Gerrera after Onderon, becoming obsessed with the man he saw as a fully fledged destructive force. 

“What can I say, boss is paranoid.” 

Entering a larger, more fleshed out space, Alexsandr could place at least forty Partisans all surrounding a taller human man. At first, it was impossible for Kallus to identify. He seemed familiar, yet completely a stranger. The man seemed to be wearing some sort of armor, with an oxygen mask system across his chest, and a flag of some sort wrapped around his shoulders. The man commanded his presence in the room, a crazed sense of justice in his eyes. It was the first time in Alexsandr’s life he felt like a person could see right through him. 

“Today, we have saved the galaxy more pain from those who seek to destroy our cause.” The man brought up his fist, clenching it as if to show the power of his words. “Betrayal! Destruction!” He surged forward, his cloak swaying behind him. “By any means, they must be eliminated. Anyone who aligns themselves with the Empire has left behind their rights to live, forfeited their right to exist in the future we shall build. For the cause!” The room erupted into cries of approval, sounds that sent a shiver down Alexsandr’s spine. 

_ Have I forfeited my right to exist?  _ The Empire had been what he knew, but now that was all under question. Inside his chest, a deep sense of guilt settled. The Rebels were more morally just than him, and these Partisans were more aggressive than him. It seemed as though everyone around him had a stronger sense of what they knew, in their hearts, was right. The sense of danger settled into a background hum as the Partisans moved to enjoy their evening, seemingly settling down to enjoy the spoils of the day. As the day turned to dusk, it was his perfect chance to escape. 

With extreme caution, Alexsandr crept out of the main hall. He had mentally mapped their way inside the base, following what he remembered back into a less populated hallway. The stone around him felt chilled with the early evening air. He’d hoped he wasn’t noticed by anyone else, that he’d been essentially a shadow in the darkness. Hope swelled in his chest as he laid eyes on the garage where the transport, several speeders, and a few ships were parked. All he needed to do was grab a speeder, and he’d be off. He’d be safe again. 

Before he got a chance to cross the barrier, a furry arm wrapped around his neck and heaved him backwards. The air left his lungs with a huff, his legs lifted off the ground. Claws pressed against his stomach, fingers reaching up into his chest to hold him. His hands reached up to hold on, attempting to gain some control. 

“I’m goin’ to ask this once, who are you?” The lasat growled, earning a small frightened yelp out of his trapped prey. 

“You don’t want to do this.” Alexsandr’s voice shook, tears welling in the back of his eyes. He was fighting the urge to sink into his memory, to become that scared little agent out in the middle of a field bleeding to death as the dying moaned around him. 

“Who. Are. You.” 

The feeling of the lasat’s claws sliding out against his stomach let Alexsandr know this was his final warning. Carefully, he raised a hand up to reveal his face from the cloth covering he had been wearing. Immediately, he watched the lasat’s face change from one of anger to one of pure wonder. “You...remember me?” 

“You were dead, I killed you.” The lasat sheltered his claws back into his hands, seeming more amused with his trapped prey than motivated to kill him. “But you’re here, a man now, no boy sent to fight old man’s wars. What, the Empire gets boring?” 

“I...I found my sense of morality, but I have to go, I…”  _ Spit out your words, get him to let you go. You did it once.  _ Alexsandr squirmed, still fearful. His heart pounded in his ribcage, feeling like rapid punches. 

“How...interesting.” Cruelly, the lasat’s lips twisted into a smirk. His eyes focused on Alexsandr, almost examining him. “So, you turned to those morally uppity Rebels, huh? What? Did they promise you redemption, Imp?” A hand moved to the human’s neck, choking him. 

With a slight gag, he shook his head. His vision began to become spotty, “I...I did w-what w-would help most…”  _ He’s going to kill me, He’s going to kill me. This is how I die.  _ The lasat released his neck, and his chest immediately heaving to gather as much air as possible. 

“Y’know, I was going to just slice you open and leave you to bleed, but Saw’s been meaning to talk to the Rebellion about an...change of pace. You, little Imp, are our new game piece.” 

Alexsandr was pulled back from the wall, still off his feet, towards the hostile lasat, then slammed back with all the force the creature could muster. Immediately, his awareness was pulling away. He clawed at it, begging it to not leave him defensively against this aggressive force. Still, for all his fighting, his mind still went blank, warm darkness surrounding him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow Me!   
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


	19. Worlds Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexsandr believes he deserves to die, and Zeb makes sure he doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, we’re getting towards the end chapters. It’s been an amazing ride, and I’m so grateful to all of you. I wanted to tell you I have both a Sequel (Why Would We Be Lovers?) and a Prequel (Why Would We Be Enemies?) planned for this fic series. So if you enjoyed, keep your eyes open!

_Alexsandr._

_Alexsandr._

A voice, unfamiliar yet ghostly, called out his name in a darkness. Kallus reached out to the connection, feeling warmth bloom in his chest. It felt almost as though he were being embraced. _Who are you? Where are you?_

There was no verbal reply, yet the sensation of warmth grew up his legs and into his fingertips, up to his neck before suddenly turning icy cold. 

_You don’t deserve to live._

The voice sounded malicious now, cruel yet heartfelt in it’s words. He’d heard it before, every time he was near death it would reach out with reassurance. Only, now it reached out negatively. 

_You’re right, I don’t deserve to live._ Alexsandr didn’t even try to fight with the voice, he accepted that this was probably the end. Despite the fact that he wasn’t even fully aware of what _this_ was. 

_Wake up!_

Suddenly, it felt as though Alexsandr had been dropped face first off a building, a clawed hand slapping across his face sending him spiraling into awareness. He was blindfolded, and restrained to some sort of pipe above his head. That vague humming lit up three figures in his mind, one was large and he quickly recognized it was the lasat who’d managed to discover him, while the other two were lifeforms he’d never met before. 

“Good, you’re up.” A large, clawed hand reached up to grasp Alexsandr’s chin. The sharp points digging into his flesh while the other kept him there, he attempted to squirm away but the creature only tightened its grip. “Stop struggling, you’re making this worse for yourself ya dimwit.” 

“What do you want from me?” _That sounded more pitiful than I meant it to_. He hated how exposed he was like this, unprotected and lacking respect. Not that he expected to be respected by this beast. 

The figure shifted, and warmth erupted next to Alexsandr’s ear. “Revenge.” The lasat whispered, sending chills down Alexsandr’s spine. “Boss said I can do _whatever_ I want so long as I don’t get your little cold heart to stop beating.” The lasat’s other clawed hand reached down, digging those razor fine nails into the cloth of Kallus’s jacket then into the skin before ripping away. 

Pain bloomed across his chest, and Alexsandr tried to open his mouth to scream. The clawed hand around his chin clamped down even harsher, keeping the sound deep in his throat. _He’s not letting me make a sound, he’s going to silently bleed me out. And I’ll have deserved it, I’ll have earned this myself._

A set of disappointed clicks left his captor, followed by a menacing chuckle. “Wow, I really left you some scars last time didn’t I? Why don’t I freshen those up?” 

Panic rose, and Alexsandr attempted to press himself back against whatever he could to get away. The feeling of claws opening up him from his shoulder down across his stomach almost made him pass out, a muffled scream echoing in his throat. In the past few months he’d experienced torture, but never torture he had deserved. _Let me die, oh force let me die. Please I deserve it but don’t let me feel any more of this._

Warmth traveled down Alexsandr’s body as blood began to seep from the wounds, covering his clothing and soaking deep into his skin. Tears began to form, then were caught in the blindfold. He just wanted to cry and sob, to _scream._ That’s all he wanted. 

“Do you know how it felt, figuring out the maniac who massacred my people was the man I’d led straight inside to my cause? Huh? I was ready to cut you open right there in the hallway.” 

There was movement, some sort of metal clanking. Alexsandr couldn’t quite figure out what it was, or who it was coming from. 

“But, ya’ a lot more useful like this than dead'' A set of humanoid hands reached up, holding Alexsandr’s right hand steady as some sort of metal clamp was pressed down over his fingers. “You’ll never be able to hold a disrupter again, I’ll save the galaxy from _you.”_ On the last word, a sickening metallic press bore down into the arch of Alexsandr’s hand, snapping it in two. 

White spots filled his vision, a scream erupting from his lungs. He could do nothing in response besides cry, sob deeply and pray for some sort of death. “L-Let me die, please. Please.” He’d never been one to grovel, but he deserved to die against a lasat. That’s how he deserved to die. 

“Mm, no.” The clamp was released, then placed again over his non-injured hand. “You’re a lot more fun to me alive than if I just gave you mercy.” Once again, the device slammed down and shattered his hand. “There, you’ll never hurt anyone again and you’ll never be able to fight back from the next lasat who wants justice. Trust me, we _all_ know who you are.” 

—————————

Taking speeders across the sand wasn’t exactly Zeb’s prime option. The grainy dirt got into his fur, and made him feel stiff. For once he envied human skin, it must’ve allowed sand to just slide right off. This discomfort was worth it, however. He’d managed to track down Kallus, he knew where he was. Locating which statue the monk was talking about had been the hard part, there must’ve been four, or they were going in circles. Finally, they discovered the right location. At least, it seemed to be the right location by the fact guns were drawn and they were ordered to stop by two unofficial looking troopers. The early morning sun made them all squint, and Zeb carefully adjusted one of his hands to block it out as the other raised to show they meant no harm. 

“We’re members of the Rebellion, we mean you no harm.” Rex spoke first, less hot headed in situations like this. The old man carefully climbed off his speeder, standing at a comfortable distance from the two guards. “We believe you may have seen someone we’re looking for.”

“The Rebellion sure comes fast, huh? We took that Imp traitor in less than a day ago.” One guard replied sarcastically, instructing them both to step off their speeders. “Zatt has been really trying to keep from tearing him apart, that’s hard though after what the bastard did to Lasan.” 

_So the monk was right, there’s a lasat here. A lasat fighting for the Partisans._ Zeb’s thoughts bounded back and forth between fear of what Alexsandr was experiencing and frustration at the fact that a lasat would fight for such a dishonorable cause. _He better not have laid a hand on Kal._

They both were led inside, this space sending a shutter up Zeb’s spine. He could smell Kallus, but at the same time he smelt afraid. It only added to the fear that Zeb felt, the worry that something may have happened to Alexsandr. They were both stopped in the main room. 

“You can’t go any further, we’ll go get the prisoner.” The guards left their side, keeping them under the watchful eye of what seemed to be tens of Partisans. 

“They’re on edge.” Zeb whispered, hoping that Rex would have an answer to help with the intense tension he felt. 

“They should be, we’re strangers.” 

Rex’s answer didn’t provide much comfort. However Zeb wasn’t about to argue with him. For a few moments, which felt like hours, they waited. Till finally, from one of the halls, came a figure Zeb couldn’t have prepared himself from. Inside the Honor Guard, few actions could get you thrown to the side. Murder, assault, and dishonor. The lasat hold Kallus with his arms behind his back, the human’s leg badly limping, had committed all three. 

“Zatt.” The name left Zeb’s lips with hatred, he wished he never had to see this man again. He had to get Kallus away from this man, he was too dangerous. Who knew what harm he had already done to the human. “Hand’em over.” 

“Mm, are you sure you want this Imp back?” Zatt’s lips curled up into a smirk as he shoved Kallus slightly, seemingly amused when the human’s leg caused him pain. “He deserves to suffer for what he did to our home, don’t you want justice?” 

“Don’t make me hurt you.” The words felt foreign on Zeb’s lips, and based on Kallus’s expression of shock it was surprising to hear such anger. Zeb tracked every movement the other made, fearful he may harm Kallus. “I’m here to get him, then the rebellion can best decide what to do with’em.” 

“With how you’re watching me, I’d say it’s more personal than that.” Zatt chuckled, grabbing Kallus by the hair before shoving him forward into Zeb’s arms. “You’re a traitor, Garazeb. You care more about him than you do the brothers and sisters in arms we lost that day.” 

Zeb caught Alexsandr before he had time to fall forward onto his face, recognizing that the man was in no shape to even walk. Rage at the other lasat’s words was beginning to boil, slowly making him feel less and less controlled. Passing off Kallus, and spoke to Rex. “Take care of him, I’ll meet you at the speeders.” Zeb watched Rex, making sure they both got out safely before for turned back to face Zatt. 

“Yea, I care about him. Lasan was a long, long time ago. If I kept that pain with me forever I’d never made it this far.” Zeb’s chest tightened, the loss of Lasan was almost too much to bear. He wished to have that life back, a life of honor and glory. 

“Then you are a coward!” Zatt unfolded his bo-rifle, configuring it as a staff. “Face me, fight me!” 

For a moment, Zeb almost refused. It seemed like such a prideful, yet meaningless battle to have against one of the only remaining members of his kind. Even still, Zatt had challenged him to a battle of honor, and that couldn’t be denied. He drew his bo-rifle, extending it out. “You never were good at talkin’ down situations.” 

One sarcastic comment was all it took to send the other lasat into a rage, he charged at Zeb. With three strikes, one to the stomach, one to the head, and one to the knees, Zeb was able to get the other down onto the ground and beaten. “It’s over.” Pulling away, and turning back, Zeb began to walk outside. 

“You always had to have the last word.” Zatt, with heavy breaths, pulled himself up to his feet. “Just die!” Zatt began to charge, pulling a large knife from his belt and fully intending to catch Zeb off guard and with dishonor. 

Zeb barely had time to react, to attempt to pull his bo-rifle up in a defensive position. Just as Zatt would have been on him, a wave of invisible force slammed the lasat back against the far wall, where he slumped to the floor. 

“Stop!” A voice cried out, a familiar very Imperial one. Alexsandr was standing with his arms outstretched, shaking with the power he had just used. His crushed hands trembled, and the wounds across his chest reopened dripping blood across the stone floor. 

“Kal.” Zeb rushed over, catching the man before he fell. “I’m here, I’ve got ya’” Carefully scooping the human up into his arms, he instructed a very shocked Rex to watch his back in case a Partisan started anything. Luckily, they seemed to know this was a personal matter. “Stupid bastard, runnin’ off like that. What were you thinkin’?” 

“I...did it to protect you…” A very weak Alexsandr answered, his face turning up to gently smile at Zeb. “You’re...taking me home right?” 

_He’s delirious, Zeb._ “Yeah, Kal. We’re going home.” The sand underneath his feet made carrying Kallus awkward, but he made due. The ride back was a lot of adjusting to make sure Alexsandr was comfortable, and attempting to keep him aware. As soon as they reached the _Phantom,_ Zeb rushed Kallus inside and attempted to clean off his chest wounds before applying bacta pads. 

Pulling back the remaining cloth across the man’s chest, it felt like Zeb had hit a wall. These were claw marks, deep and true. Zatt had tortured Kallus in the most obvious way possible. “Oh...Kal.” 

“Not...y-your fault.” Still, Kallus attempted to make Zeb feel more comfortable. 

“Just relax Kal, Rex is gettin’ the ship up and going. We’ll be home in just a bit.” Finally, the bacta seemed to take over Alexsandr’s wounds. A pale hand reached up, grabbing Zeb’s arm. “I...I’m sorry...so sorry, for everything I did to you.” 

Tears threatened at the back of Zeb’s eyes, a small sad smile dancing across his lips. “I know you are, Kal.” He reached up a hand, gently petting Kallus’s hair as he began to slip into rest, “you can tell me again when ya’ fully here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, And May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow Me!  
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr:mountainsidepossum


	20. Back on Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how to summarize this chapter, but enjoy!

_“Cadet Kallus, can you hear me?”_

_Yularen’s voice was strong, firm yet not critizing. The world around Alexsandr seemed to roll, swim, and spin. This felt so real, he was almost startled by the fact he was face to face with his old teacher turned father figure. This...couldn’t be real. The man’s hair hadn’t been that shade of brown for nearly ten years. Raising his hands up, Alexsandr was presented with the gray and white uniform of an Imperial cadet pulled around his thin arms._

_“Cadet Kallus, that was quite a fall.”_

_Sitting up, and blinking in surprise, Alexsandr glanced around. There were faces he had not seen in upwards of a decade. Yuleran was sitting on his knees, attempting to hold Alexsandr’s head still. He tried to remember what exactly had happened, but this memory had always been hazy. Somehow, a friend had pushed him over the railing in the academy’s hangerbay. He’d fallen a good fifteen feet downward, and woken up in his teacher’s arms. His classmates stood surrounding the two, looking down at them with worried eyes._

_“Yes sir, I’m fine.”_

_He’d felt so safe in that moment, with Yularen attempting to stablize his neck. Having people worry over him had been a new sensation in those days, when he was still processing the emotional neglect pushed forward by his parents. Having someone genuinely care if he lived or died, now that something he wanted to feel more of. At that tender age, it had seemed like that was the main appeal of the Empire. The stability and safety. Things that had been fleeting treasures in his normal family life._

_That dream...slowly it formed to another memory. He was standing in Yularen’s office, a deep terrible amount of anguish in his heart. He could remember this, he could remember the first time he talked to Yularen after Onderon, how ashamed he’d been to call himself ISB after losing his entire squad._

_“Agnet Kallus, I have read your report on the events with the terrorists. You fought well.”_

_“I did what I could but...I still lost my men, sir.”_

_“Yes, you did. However, they died honorably and with purpose, like you will someday.”_

_At the time, those words had softened the intense shame. Yuleran knew exactly what to say to get him back in working order. He’d gone to him after every single mission, discussing what could have been better about his actions. Alexsandr pretended not to get attached, and Yuleran never made mention to him unless to discuss what an inspiring student he had been at the academy. It was as though those conversations hadn’t happened, unless one asked the other if they had._

As awareness registered within Alexsandr, so did the feeling of gel surrounding him. His eyes opened, instantly showing him what seemed to be a blank sheet of green-blue emptiness. In the back of his mind, he could register he was in a bacta-tank, but everything else was fuzzy. Searching outside his glass confine, the distinct feeling of several lifeforms touched at his mind. Though he still feared the force, the stimuli was welcome. Who these forms were, that was a mystery however. He didn’t have the training, nor focus, to reach out beyond the basics. 

Slowly, he attempted to recollect why he was in this tank. He remembered Jedha first, and his search, and then the Partisans. There was a certain burning in his chest at the memory, shame at just how foolish he had been to believe he could slip into their ranks undetected. His vision was useless inside this liquid, so he carefully pressed his eye lids closed and attempted to scan through his body for outstanding wounds. It was a habit he’d developed inside the ISB, a way to examine himself without making any weakness outwardly visible. Collecting himself, he began his mindful search. He could feel slight buzzing in his arms and legs, soreness from being in a bacta-tank was the most likely answer, but his chest seemed to be screaming. Three distinct lines of pain traveled across his torso like torn fabric. _That must be where the beast cut me,_ He supposed. 

Movement outside his glass enclosure brought him back to reality, his eyes softly peeking open. There was a swirl of purple and blue directly in front of him, a long row of purple stripes out reaching. Finally after a moment of hesitation, a claw settled against the glass. Alexsandr’s heart dropped, his nostiles flaring and accidentally inhaling the tiniest bit of bacta-gel. Enough to make everything burn, to make a splitting headache push away rational though. _He came back to finish me off, He’s back._

  
  


The restraints holding his chest still shifted, pulling him upwards. Desperately, he attempted to push against the movement by dragging his hands against the tempered glass. That creature was out there, and it was going to kill him if he didn’t fight. He wasn’t just going to die so simply. Once his body breached through the surface, he attempted to stop the claws that were wrapping around him in order to pull him down. 

“Kal! Kal, stop! Yer safe!” 

He knew that voice, and those concerned eyes, Alexsandr knew them. Yet, those claws against his ribs who were settling him down onto a medical-style bed were so dangerous. They couldn’t be trusted. With a yank, Alexsandr pulled away from Zeb. 

“Don’t touch me.” He spat the words out, sounding crueler than he had meant. Zeb’s eyes seemed to fall, like he was legitimately hurt before he began to step back. Alexsandr recognized a few more figures in the room, the _Ghost’s_ captain Hera, the jedi Kanan, and their murderous albeit enjoyable droid. His heart began to pound in his chest when one of the medics used 

“Kal…” Zeb’s voice was edged with deep sadness, and pain. The lasat was genuinely upset by the pushback. “We’re here, I know yer scared but-“ 

“Do you?” Kallus interrupted, Alexsandr protested. _Stay away from me, Zeb. I’m going to hurt you if you get too close, you look just like him._

“Zeb, step outside with Hera.” Kanan carefully set a hand on his partner’s shoulder, nodding to her for a moment before both of them left the room. Carefully, the Jedi approached holding Kallus’s lightsaber. “Jedha, can’t say it would’ve been my first stop.” 

“I went where...that _thing_ demanded.” He attempted to place blame on the lightsaber, motioning towards it like it had personally wronged him. “All of this...this _awakening_ only happened when I touched that force-forsaken thing. Take it, I don’t want it.” 

“Alexsandr.” Kanan crossed his arms, lightly shaking his head. 

“My first name, how do you know that? Did…” _No, I didn’t tell him that, at least I don’t remember telling him that._ “You don’t know me, Jedi.” 

“Well, after your little flight I had our intelligence crew do some digging. We found bits on you, a lot of it behind a... _ton_ of security clearance. But, I know your name.” Kanan was as mysterious as he was frustrating. Alexsandr feared people knowing him, Kallus saw it as a weakness. 

“So what? You know me, or you think you do. Doesn’t change a thing.” Alexsandr could feel himself regressing, the urge to lash out at those around him stronger than ever. Sitting himself forward, he rested his feet on the ground. “I just...need some air.” _I need to get away from you, from Zeb, from this war._

“I know about your family. You aren’t the first force user.” 

Alexsandr’s back stiffened, his feet hitting the ground solidly before he carefully managed to stand up. Pain traveled like dull lightning across his abdomen, however his training in the ISB torture simulators allowed him to truck on. He stood even with Kanan, looking him in the eyes with renewed hatred. “You don’t know a damn thing about my family, Jarrus. Get out.” 

Oddly, the Jedi did as he commanded, leaving a few very frightened and slightly awkward meds along with the murderous droid in his wake. Chopper nudged Alexsandr’s leg, beeping out in binary. 

“ _Real low move to bring that up when you’re just out the fish bowl.”_

Alexsandr chuckled, leaning back against the bed, feeling slightly weak. “Certainly.” 

“ _I could go shock him?”_

“No, don’t go causing trouble on my behalf. You already start more than enough on your own.” That seemed to earn a chuckle out of the droid, who carefully nudged Alexsandr back onto the bed. 

_“Still. If it wasn’t for Hera liking him, I’d shock him as much as I shock Ezra.”_

“I...do not doubt that given how you treat the boy.” Oddly, this conversation was helping Alexsandr slow down. The medics worked around them as they talked, giving him pain medication and reassessing his closed wounds. For a moment, however brief, his conversation with Chopper was brief friendship in the eye of the storm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You! 
> 
> Follow me!  
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum

**Author's Note:**

> Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, and May The Force Be With You!
> 
> Follow Me!  
> Twitter: @imperialsimp  
> Tumblr: mountainsidepossum


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